Chapters
by BarbaritaS
Summary: Nightmares never really go away. They're just waiting for you to fall asleep. Both Zoro and Ace have their demons, but that's what brings them together. AceZo, AU.
1. Gag

_Not an update you´d be expecting, but I can´t make myself write reasonable things. But I will. Soon, I hope. –B._

_**Chapter one**_

_**Gag**_

The skies are plain grey today, nothing but endless mix of smog and heavy atmosphere. It feels like being locked up in a giant copula and it´s making me feel creeped out. Not that I actually care. I´m still inside the house. Not that I care. I bet it´s warmer outside, anyway. The central heating´s been broken for past few months, and no one bothers with fixing it because the winter hasn´t come yet. And it´s not going to come until it´s snowing; or at least that´s Smoker´s theory. It´s fucking freezing outside but he just won´t buy us new heating machine or whatever, just to spare the money for his own booze.

He´s a dickhead. Everybody in this house is, including me.

As I sit in the almost empty apartment, I chew my cereal slowly. It´s an awful taste, like nothingness filled with bitter flavor of rotten cheese. It´s the only food that can be consumed in this shithole. No one buys food since my Mom doesn´t want to eat anymore. That retard who occasionally comes here usually eats outside, with his alcoholic friends, in the cheap fast food bistros or pubs. He doesn´t care if we starve to death. He doesn´t care about anything besides his own stupid ass and cigars. And that shitty woman called Hina who is probably going to 'replace my Mom _afterwards_'.

I chew and chew and chew, like a dog on it´s chew toy. Maybe chewing toys taste better. I hate cereals. I hate replacement for food.

I stare out of the filthy window covered with dust from the inside and mud mixing with rain from the outside. It´s not really raining yet, just blowing water. If I could have a special power, I´d probably want to rule over the weather. I´d make the days sunny. All the time. I would never let the sun down. For Mom. She loves sun; or at least she used to love sun. Now she spends all her days in that dark dungeon she calls bedroom. She isolates herself, and when I come to her asking why won´t she go outside with me, she says that I should mind my own business. Later, she cries out for me and tells me I´m the best son. That she´s just so sorry for having cancer, so sorry for stealing my best years, so sorry for not being a good Mom, so sorry for being like this. As if this was her fault.

Fuck that.

Fuck that shit.

It´s none of her fault. I blame Smoker. I blame God. I blame Devil. I blame myself.

I chew while making disgusted acid faces into the empty space. It´s making me want to smash things, kick and punch random people, maybe even kill some helpless animal. But I´m not like that. They´re all just thoughts, dirty and nasty thoughts. I should slap myself for thinking them. I should punch myself for imagining those things. I should be ashamed, but shame is something I haven´t felt for long time now. My sense of sociability and good manners had disappeared, faded into darkness of the place I live in. I stopped having regrets for acting rude towards nice people, I stopped having bad feelings about insulting random kids in school, I stopped having chills sent down my spine whenever I do something banned. I got used to it.

I look at the cigars laying on the kitchen sink, thinking whether to throw them into the rubbish bin or sell them to some loner in the town, maybe even in the school. I´m staring until my eyes start to hurt again. Then I slide the bowl with cereal away from me, getting up and grabbing the object of my thoughts. I can sell them. Maybe exchange for the hands of someone who can fix central heating. I can´t keep buying blankets for Mom. It´s useless, anyway. Sometimes she´s cold and sometimes overheated, and that´s the time when Smoker comes in to take the blankets to sell them. My hard work gets unnoticed as usual and I have to work more to afford extra clothes, blankets and sheets.

Since I´m student, all I can do is work part-time. And to be honest, that doesn´t earn me much money. More likely it´s slowing me down. But it´s the only thing I can do. Even if things get damn bad, I´m not planning on stealing or selling drugs. Smoker can steal my Mom and life generally, but he won´t steal my soul. He won´t steal what I still am on the inside. I´m keeping it locked safely somewhere deep within, where he can´t reach.

I hear the creaking sound of the door opening slowly. I bet he´s drunk again.

Even from the kitchen I can smell the agonizing aroma of cheap vodka from the 24/7 store on the corner of our street.

My nose got much better since he´s started drinking.

The door closes and I hear his thumping steps on the wooden floor. I listen to it quietly, waiting for what´s to come. I see his shadow on the ground, and then I see his naked torso, higher part of body covered with nothing but thick white coat. If he has the time to fuck around with Hina dressed like this, in an expensive jacket and winter pants and boots, he should have the time to get some money out of her. I´m not the type to envy people or ask for money, but if I didn´t have my pride, I would probably do it myself.

He appears in the kitchen, his flying walk (I happened to call it that way when I was fourteen) suddenly stopping. He gazes at me with narrowed unfocused eyes and I wonder if he knows who is he looking at. Well, who cares. I don´t. I fucking don´t.

I raise my eyes to meet his, even though I hope he´ll go blind soon.

"You…" he growls, pointing his bottle of booze at me. Some of the last drops touch the wooden floor and I think of the feeling of something cool and nice touching my skin. I haven´t had a good shower since we had PE last week. Well, it´s Tuesday. Not so bad. I don´t stink as much as he does.

"Smoker." I whisper tardily, looking away quickly as he comes closer, bringing in the smell of alcohol. I widen my nostrils to block the awful stink, hoping it would work out. It doesn´t. I wish I could just shove him out of the window.

"Where´s my booze you fucker?!" he roars more loudly, stumbling across the kitchen to the spot where I´m sitting. He seems even bigger than usual, with his stupid coat on, and those heavy boots. It´s making him look stupid, but also manly. I often wonder what kind of woman Hina is that she willingly sleeps with him.

"I bet you fucking drank it all to the bottom, didn´t ya, ya stupid shithead?!" he yells at me, slowly making his way to the table by the window. If I didn´t have to pay for new glass, I would just push him out and watch him die slowly.

I stay silent why he yells more: "You damn prick, you´re the reason why we´re broke! And why´s you shitty mother dying! If there was no you, she´s be just awesome!"

I look out of the window, ignoring his words. They don´t reach me anymore. They used to depress me, but after some time I realized he always says the same things over and over, not even caring about them truly. He´s not honest when he says he regrets my Mom´s illness.

I look out of the window, grasping the little box of cigars in my hands, hidden under the table. If he finds out, I don´t think I´m coming to school today. He likes to punish people until they bleed and beg for death.

"You love to drink, don´t ya, Zoro?" he says more calmly, sitting next to me at the table. "I like drinks, too." As if I can´t see that. "We can as well drink together, ya know. You don´t have to be so shy. Your mother doesn´t need to know. We can just have fun without her, y'see."

I can´t believe what he says.

But I still don´t care. Why should I? He never does what he says, except for the moments when he tells me he´ll beat the shit outta me. About pain and punishment he´s very certain and loyal to his words. About promises to Mom, he´s like they never happened.

I shook my head tiredly and stand up to leave for school.

His cold grasp of hand on my wrist holds me down. "Why so distant, Zoro?" he murmurs, not looking at me. His fingers creep higher, reaching the muscles on my arms, stopping my the scar on my shoulder. "I would love to spend some time with my son, you know."

I feel the enormous desire to throw him and yell at him that I´m not his son. But I´m paralyzed like always – always, when he touches me. I can´t move, I´m frozen to the ground, my legs are wooden and all I can do is imagine white smoke wrap around my body, choking me and suffocating me as I disappear in the thick mist. That´s what my so called father does to me.

He touches the scar he himself gave me few months ago and grins widely. I jerk away.

"Seriously Zoro…" he mumbles under his nose, but loudly enough for me to hear it. He knows I hate his hissy voice, the way he talks, the sinister accent of the tone he uses for his silly speeches. "Zoro… such a handsome boy, and you won´t even let daddy…" I feel him grasp my arm painfully, and as I don´t even have the time to panic, I find myself pressed against the table all of the sudden. He uses his big callused hand to hold my head down, his other hand pinning my one arm down. The other one is trapped below my own body. I feel him press his thighs against my ass and I cry out in fear when I realize I´m not able to move; at all.

Helpless to fight back. Again.

"You won´t even let daddy have some fun with you!" he growls, his one leg spreading my thighs, his knee suddenly pressed in my crotch. I scream some sound and start fighting back, jerking my body from side to side, buckling my head, trying to shake him off. He´s too heavy to be shaken off though. I´m helpless like this.

There, I´m paralyzed again. I see him holding a knife. He could completely let go of me now and I wouldn´t move. I can´t stand seeing a knife, I want to die even before it touches me.

Too many bad memories.

I want to die right then and there, before he can use his tricks on me. He knows how much I´m afraid of knives when I´m not the one holding them. And he uses it to his advantage. This is his idea of punishment.

He grabs the hem of my pants roughly and pulls them down, leaving me only in my boxers. I screw my eyes closed.

_No. No no no no no no. You haven´t done this in months. You haven´t cut me in months. You haven´t touched me in moths. No. NO!_ I try to resist, but I can´t move an inch. I wish I wasn´t so scared, but I just can´t help it. I still remember the way my Mom had cut me once, when I made her very angry while she was cooking. I was a kid back then, and she was perfectly healthy back then. That´s why I´m scared of knives; because even the only person I trusted in my entire life had hurt me with a knife.

A damn kitchen knife.

Smoker presses the tip of the knife onto my skin, the tender flesh of my inner thigh.

The left one.

Right one is already marred with countless scars, deep and not so bad. Many of them. Few are my own job even, but most of them is Smoker´s property. The left thigh is left unmarked, preciously pale and soft as silk. Or so he says. Sometimes he´s in a good mood and compliments me. I guess it´s not today. I feel the cold steel kiss my skin, but not cutting through it yet. I imagine the knife being rusted, therefore the cutting itself much more painful.

I´m not really sure if I enjoy pain or not. Maybe I don´t mind it.

"Well Zoro, whatcha say? Will you be a good boy and give daddy what he wants, or do I need to punish my little boy again?" his free hand caresses my scarred right thigh, his thumb brushing against area between my intimate places 'innocently'. "Tell me Zoro, will you be good to your daddy?"

I gather the last pieces of my pride and spit. "You´re not my fucking father." I grumble, looking him in the eye.

He grins. "Very well then." He says. "Let´s teach you a lesson then. How about I fuck you with a knife instead of my huge dick today, huh? How about that, you LITTLE PIECE OF TRASH!?"

I screams as he tries to rip my boxers off, but before he can do anything, miracle happens. Angels come to the earth from the heavens and save my stupid sorry ass.

"Smokey…" my Mom´s weak voice echoes through the small apartment. "Smokey, my pills…" she wheezes.

He lets go of me entirely, leaving me sprawled across the table.

He walks away.

And then looks back at me.

"Study hard. I´ll see my little boy after school, neh? Zoro?"

I keep silent. I won´t say what he wants to hear.

"Zoro." His voice is sharp.

I know what happens if I don´t respond.

"See you, daddy."

xOxOxOxOxOx

In the school I´m met with the best part of the day, which is the lunchtime on the roof. I sit there alone, staring at the cloud. I´m staring too long and my eyes begin to hurt. I should wear glasses, but I sold them three months ago when our air conditioner broke. Didn´t earn me much, but enough to get a new one. Since then, my eyes got worse, and the winter had come. I´m no good with money management. It´s too smarty-pants for me. I´m not the one to mind that kind of things.

I pull out a sandwich I got from the old lady from the shop on our street for free and look at it melancholically.

What a pain.

I don´t need people to take care of me. I´m not that short of money, I can still buy a damn sandwich.

But in fact, I sort of feel like falling to the ground weeping like a baby. She doesn´t know me. She never saw my marks in school. Never met my family or friends. (Not that I have any). Yet, every morning she waits for me to pass her store and gives me her awesomely delicious sandwich. She might as well be my grandma. I call her Baa-san actually.

I pierce the delicate bread with my teeth, slicing through it easily, letting the tastes roam over in my cavern. I have the urge to sleep, I haven´t had much sleep in years. I can´t sleep very well at home. Either because of Mom, sometimes she wants to stay up and talk, or because of Smoker; not that he´s trying something. He´s just there, and that´s enough to give me another sleepless night.

I´m sleepy only at school.

Across the roof, I see a guy named Johny coming my way. As always, he has a cigarette stuck between his teeth, silently puffing. He´s kind of a loner, too. Hasn´t been one his entire life like me, but happened to be after his best friend died. I think his name was Yosaku ; we used to have biology together. He used to be a total boss of the class, chased after every girl in the school he liked, but after the accident, he closed up and started smoking like a factory. Now he´s something like me.

Something.

He stops by my stretched legs, his own mile long ones blocking my view. I look up, but say nothing. I never talk while in public. Almost to no one. And Johny is not one of those I want to talk to. He´s fine and everything, but creeps me out and isn´t much of a reliable person. I´m sort of paranoid, and I don´t really want to talk to people I don´t know well. Or people, for that matter.

Johny mumbles something like 'Yo dude' and sits next to me, cigarette now between his bony fingers.

I´m looking at the bunch of kids he used to be friends with. The popular kids. They´re sitting all together, eating their fancy lunches from expensive bistros, talking about everyday shit and the way their central heating works perfectly. I´m looking at each one of them and see nothing inside.

Johny leans against the wall behind us, handing the cigarette. "Want some?" he asks.

I look at the smoke coming from it and shake my head 'no'. He puffs and continues staring at his once crushes and friends.

He never told me, but I think they let him down when he needed them most.

He doesn´t tell me anything about his personal life, but I have the feeling that he had lived through his own bunch of shits. That´s why we have this weird kind of friendship; more like symbioses. I have a shitty life, he has a shitty life. No one else in this entire school could understand, so we hook up together and share silence. One would thing it would bother him; the fact that I don´t talk. But it doesn´t.

I look up at the sky, thinking if it will start raining.

Then I look at Johny and take his cigarette.

xOxOxOxOxOx

"Ace. ACE. You weren´t listening at all, we you?" my friend Marco asks, making me tilt my head at his direction.

I´ve had a bad morning, so I only look away again, saying "No."

He sighs. "Of course you weren´t. Well, I was telling you that the kid over there is staring our way." Marco repeats his words tiredly and yawns.

Is shrug my shoulders, putting my hands into the pockets of my jeans. Since I´m in the last grade, I don´t necessarily need to wear uniform; not every day. It´s Tuesday. Not that it makes any difference. I will just assure few teachers that I have problems with obedience. Which is nothing but the truth. Well, fuck that. I don´t care about bunch of idiots with the power of making my school life hell.

Marco shakes his head. "You´re a pain you know. You´re no fun." He comments.

"Leave him alone, Marco-san." The tall dark-haired girl from my class says calmly, setting her blue eyes on him. "It´s not very nice of you."

"Keh," Marco turns away. "Whatever." He grumbles gloomily, looking at the skyscraper in the distance. This is the quieter part of Tokyo, if you can say something like that about the Japanese metropolis.

Robin looks at me with worried face. I look away. I don´t need their pity. I´m fine.

She looks away. "Nami-san, have you heard of the school art competition?" she asks with a shiny smile her best friend, the red-head sex bomb with figure similar to Robin´s, just a bit shorter. And yes, by figure I mean boobs.

The long-haired class top pupil I used to like so much but now had become nothing but another girl from the neighborhood looks her way. "You mean the one where you can win a job as an illustrator for the Japan´s most famous newspaper? Yep, heard of it already. Why, are you thinking of trying it?" she bites her piece of onigiri, looking at her friend, totally ignoring me and Marco.

"No, actually," Robin tries to be nice all the time, looking my way this gently. "I thought Ace-san might try. You like to draw, don´t you, Ace-san?"

"Used to." I note dryly, kind of hoping Marco would say something stupid to make the atmosphere less heavy.

Nami and Robin stay silent, exchanging looks of despair. Yeah, I guess I´m hard to entertain. Then Nami makes the move: "It might me good for you, you know. You should get some of your old habits and hobbies back. You used to do beautiful wax statues using fire and stuff, right? They opened new museum of young art in the city, I think it might be interesting if you –"

"Nami," I cut her off before she can go too far. "I appreciate your concern, but no thanks."

With this, they all shut up. No one tries to speak anymore.

Well… shit. Did it again, I guess. I always scare my friends off.

Instead of trying to fix the fucked up conversation, I look at the two boys sitting across the roof from us. One of them is smoking, the guy with short black hair. Johnny, who else. He´s easy to remember. I guess he´s the only one with this weird image in this school. He´s kinda creep, I mean, he spreads depression all over the place just by walking through the school. Not that I have problems with that. I just don´t know what to think of him. I didn´t know him. All I know is that his best friend died not so long ago, and that he had no one to rely on, to relieve his stress with. Poor kid is alone, works in his mom´s pub day/night because she can´t handle it herself.

Not the type to judge.

I look at the other kid who´s been staring at me the whole time. He´s wearing the same clothes as always; I don´t mean the school uniform. We all wear it. But his has still the same dirt on it, still on the same spots, and still the ripped fabric on few places; it´s nearly invisible, but it´s there. I don´t know him, only his name which sounds very nice and musical, but doesn´t suite his… condition.

I´m not the type to judge people.

I don´t know him.

They´re smoking and I wonder what will I do when I come home.

The ring screams, making my head pound. The groups split in the hallways, and I look for the two kids from the roof with my eyes. Nowhere to be seen. I wonder if the green-haired boy is skipping class? He looks like he doesn´t give a fuck.

I wonder what would I do if I knew him personally.

I head for the bathrooms just before I go to my class. I pull out some bandages from my bag and take down my necklace with razor.

I press the steel into my skin.

_Don´t think about it. _

xOxOxOxOxOx

For the heaven´s sake, the next lesson is double art. Double means we have two lessons in a row, no break, no pause. Kids usually want to start earlier and skip the twenty minutes break so we can finish the lessons quickly. I don´t have to stay till 5pm, 4:15 is enough that way.

I sit at the very last desk, in the back of the classroom. I feel safer that way, far away. Far away I feel okay. Not seen by the world. Not seen by unwanted eyes. Plus my uniform looks horrible, and I smell like sweat. I don´t want to sit in the company of all the rich kids who are all going to have a perfect life. Their future is planned; my future depends on in what kind of mood Smoker is.

They talk for a bit until the teacher appears. He´s tall and exotic, one of the eccentric people who don´t care if the others stare or not. Just let them stare. Professor Dracule is his name and he´s our class professor, that kind of guy who actually minds his classroom, his students and their marks. I´m his favorite one; he loves to give me long lectures about being a good pupil and studying hard. He thinks he can save me.

No one can save me.

Not even I can save myself.

Whatever. Being melancholic again.

He sets his things on the teacher´s table as the class finally shuts up. My head stops pounding for few short moments. I happened to hate loud noises, or noises for that matter. I enjoy silence more.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." He speaks up in his majestic and strong voice, looking over us with his amber eyes that remind you to shut the fuck up if you don´t want him to cut your dick off. "Today I shall present you to a new competition in this lovely city."

Silence. Dramatic pause.

I´ve seen right through him.

Damn bastard continues as he´s sure everybody´s gone crazy with curiosity. "It´s called 'Japan seeks illustrator'. No matter where you come from, no matter who you are, you can participate in this, and if you´re good enough to make the organizers like your work, your main award shall be job as the illustrator of Japan´s most favorite newspaper."

The class starts humming, which evolves into rumbling and then, making such awfully loud noises it´s making my head spin.

"Now pay me attention." Dracule says as the kids shut up again. For a little moment, I´m at peace.

He talks. I like the way he talks. I listen to his words, not sure what they mean, and I watch the raindrops hit the window by my desk. He keeps talking for some more, probably explaining the competition. I wonder. Wonder for some more. My head hurts. _Could I?_ I don´t think so. I always loved to draw, and I still draw when I have the chance or when Mom asks me to, but I don´t have the will. Or the time. Or the equipment. _I can´t._

Dracule pulls out some pictures from his desk. I stare at them, completely amazed.

Does it sound too ridiculous if I say that they make me feel better? The colors are healing me, I feel warm and I want to stare at them for the rest of my life.

"… so if you do something like this, you might have a chance."

"How´s the author, sir?"

The whole class is shocked. I don´t blame them. I´ve never spoke up before.

Dracule smiles gently, looking at me with his golden piercing eyes. "It´s Portgas D. Ace, Mr. Roronoa."

I look away before I´ve had enough of them. I have to stop. I must stop. I keep telling myself that. I need to hold what I want in order to survive.

I wonder. I wonder for some more. My head hurts.

_Ace._

_Portgas D. Ace._

_Where have I heard his name?_

_**AN: Hi to you all **____** I know it´s not the update you might be waiting for, but I just felt like it. I need to relax myself a bit. Life´s been pretty hard on me lately, so I need to uhh… make it up to myself somehow. Writing about other people´s problems help.**_

_**So as you might have figured out, this is about the eternal pains and demons of Ace and Zoro, set in AU. I didn´t want AU, but since they´re so strong in the real OP universe, I needed something else to create the mood. I´m not planning to write them OOC though. (Hahaha, using so many acronyms :P). I´ll keep them as they are, because they are so awesome – all I need to do is create a strong bond between the two, using the more painful side of life. Don´t worry though. They´ll be fine **___

_**So, if you like the first chapter, maybe you´d like to consider eventually reading next one, when I post it?**_

_**Aaaaand maybe you´ll leave me a review so I have an idea what you think of this?**_

_**Love, Barb **_____


	2. I can see you

_**Chapter 2**_

_**I see you**_

Later that day, I find myself resisting to go home. What should I do there, anyway? Smoker´s probably there, so Mom should be fine. As long as he doesn´t leave her alone for too long. She needs her pills.

I head for work instead. Seriously. How many kids my age would be so happy to go to work? Not many I guess. But I need to go there, anyway. Boss wanted to talk to me. It´s not my shift today, but he usually doesn´t mind if I come and just kill time working on dividing all the DVDs into genres. People have this very annoying tendency to put action movies to the shelves with cartoons. And that might do some crazy things.

I walk through the busy streets, imagining my lungs getting blacker and blacker from all the smog.

I´m going to do some work. I don´t wanna go home. I won´t go home.

At least not until tomorrow afternoon. Who knows where Smoker is going to be. If Mom doesn´t get her pills, someone might as well suffocate her with a pillow.

I know I sound fucking sick, but it´s just that way. I´m disgusting and I know it, but nobody cares what´s in my head.

The truth is, my Mom is the only thing tying me to that awful place. The only thing connecting me to that living frozen hell. I love her, but for this one thing, I´m thinking the most nasty thoughts ever: killing my own Mom. Not because of hatred, not because of anger. Only to end her pain. My pain.

She´s like an anchor to me. Rusty and damn heavy, tied to my ankle.

I don´t want to lose my Mom.

I don´t want to lose the only person I´m certain I love.

But since I know she won´t be here for very long time, I can´t afford to think that way. I need to have a plan, I need to think something up. An escape plan, to put it right away. I´m not going to stay in that apartment with Smoker, even if it means sleeping on the streets. I fucking don´t care, as long as he stays out of my life.

I walk down to the main avenue, frowning at the shitty weather. My clothes are already soaked wet.

I can´t afford bus.

I´m damn lucky I still have the cigars I stole from Smoker earlier today; gonna sell them later this day, after it gets dark. It´s easier that way. People are not afraid when they can´t see each other´s face.

I can already see the flashy lights of the store. The 'Pirate´s entertainment' is my favorite place in the world I guess. There are no monsters in there. No bullies. No danger.

No Smoker.

There´s nothing stronger than my hate for him in the entire world. As someone, the only one, who knows the truth, I look at him and I see nothing but the image of the worst monster from my worst nightmare. Smoker himself is my worst nightmare.

People trusted him, you know. Everybody did. When they looked at him, all their foolish eyes could see was an honorable man who had to fight the odds of the life every day. Supporting dying wife, taking care of delinquent stepson trying to show him the right path to take. They would never see through that mask. No one could. Not even Mom. She was the one to trust him the most. And she would never understand.

The meds are fucking with her mind, after all, so I can´t blame her.

At first, he seemed as a father figure to me; I wasn´t very comfortable with him, but I could stand him. He was always touching my hair, saying it was kinda sweet. I didn´t mind, mom used to touch it too, I was just bothered sometimes.

He was an incredibly witty and careful monster. Minding his every step.

He did it slowly. He was waiting for me to get used to him, his way of parenting. Bla bla bla.

When Mom got sick, I was twelve.

Stupid idiot kid. Had no idea of how my own body worked. No idea what to do.

When I got into puberty, I was twelve.

Stupid stupid kid. Had no idea how relationships worked. No idea at all, dammit.

When the touching increased, I was twelve, almost thirteen.

Air conditioning didn´t work as usual, it was damn hot. That was the first time when that sick shithead made his move.

He was like a spider; closing his thick, yet invisible webs around me. No one could see them, and if they could, they wouldn´t care.

Puberty did it. His webs caught me in their grasp, and he walked in only to never let me out again.

You´ve never seen a monster like him.

The way he talked; like a good parent, concerned about his stepson´s safety. But he had the eyes of a demon.

His eyes.

I will never forget the way he looked at me that night.

Never forget the way he laughed at me.

Never forget the way his evil grin spread his sick and insane features.

I will never forget that night that had changed my entire life. Well, no, not really. It wasn´t the only thing that had changed it.

Mom should never asked him to go home with her.

'_I have a little son, but he will be asleep. You can come with me, Smokey. I don´t mind company._'

How could she? Yeah, I guess she was aiming for financially strong looking man to take care of her and me, a baby, but still. Was God in a bad mood that fateful day? Why the fuck did it have to be Smoker? That evil pig? That damn bastard? W.H.Y?

'_Well, you may stay as long as you like… I hope you don´t mind Zoro…_'

I´m still trying very hard to forgive her. Though I´m not really mad, I´m just dying from inside. How could she? And why was she so blind?

Why is she still so blind?

'_It´s Zoro´s fifteenth birthday today, Smoker! How could you forget that!_'

The very first time I saw her get mad with him, and the very first time I watched him hit her. It was like… he had no emotions. I can´t describe what fifteen years old boy thought of it. I felt pain and anger, but you know what? I was watching her cry in the kitchen afterwards. Thinking things. _He only hit you. I wish he was only hitting me. Stop crying. Why are you fucking crying?!_ I was bad son. Should have called the police. Much sooner.

Since then, she´s never been the same. I think she didn´t trust him that much, either, but didn´t have the guts to do something about that dickhead staying in our apartment.

Whatever.

I don´t give a fuck now. It all happened. I can´t take it back.

I wish I could.

I wish I was never born.

What is the reason? I mean, why do I live? Is there hardly any reason?

I don´t think so.

"_Shut the fuck up, Zoro. Stop crying. Your mother´s going to hear you."_

-oOOo-

_It was a hot summer night, air conditioning broken because of genius Smoker who thought he won´t smash it if he throws a bottle of wine at it. I was in my room, sweating my pajama off, thinking desperately how to fall asleep._

_That day was the first time I got aroused in shower._

_My crotch was like on fire. I was a kid, not even thirteen yet, and I was terrified. I had no idea how to react, what to do about it. I thought I wasn´t normal, sane._

_Smoker had said that anytime I felt something is wrong, I can come to him and ask. Ask anything, Zoro. It´s okay. He said it would be okay._

_I remember I was scowling, laying in the middle of bed. The light was out, only moonlight was coming through the closed window. I had no better idea than touch the bulge in between my thighs, hoping I would push it back down or something; I made it just worse. _

_I rubbed myself, having no idea how to make that weird feeling stop._

_Then, footsteps._

_The door slowly opened, no light coming through the door frame. It was night. Everybody was supposed to be asleep._

_But monsters don´t sleep. Ever._

"_You alright there, Zoro?" Smoker´s wheezy voice reached my ears and I froze in place, stopped all my actions. As thirteen-year-old kid, I thought that in my room, in my bed and under my blanket, I´m okay. Safe. From all monsters and stuff._

_But I wasn´t. The worst monster of them all was stepping right through my door, closing them as he came in._

"_Everything okay?"_

_A question of a concerned parent. But eyes of the devil._

"…_I´m fine." I mumbled, pulling the blanket up to my chin._

_He took few long steps and sat on my bed, close enough to reach me with his hands. Close enough to touch me._

_He placed a hand on my stomach, sending explosion of fear through my body and soul. It was like he tied me down with some invisible power, invisible force._

_I was an idiot kid. Had no idea what´s happening._

_Fuck it all._

"_Oh, I see…" he smiled almost warmly. "You´re… relieving some stress, aren´t you…" he mumbled, his hand sliding up, two fingers grasping the hem of the thin blanket. _

_He slowly pulled it south, to my stomach. Despite the fact it was almost scorching, I shivered. He was only grinning._

"_You see, men have needs…" he said, caressing my lower tummy. I was frozen to the bed, tied down by his webs. I wish I could scream for help, scream until my voice was out, until someone came to help me. Save me. Protect me. But no one did. I stayed silent. Just barely breathing._

_I was watching his hand, his fingers encircling my navel and then one finger sliding in. And out. And in. Making some wird motion on me._

_I was stupid. Had no idea what it meant. _

_And then he slipped his hand into my sleeping pants. With that, my life as kid had ended. I felt like dying. I wanted to die so bad._

_His calloused fingers wrapped around my developing cock, I had no clue; I thought it was something banned, something unnatural. And it was. Just in it´s own fucked up way. If I did it on my own, it´d be perfectly normal._

_But this was my stepfather._

_This was not supposed to be happening._

_Yet I didn´t know how to make it stop. I couldn´t stop him, let alone myself. I was tensed, frozen, creeped out, didn´t know what to do about my dad´s hand in my crotch. I found myself gasping soon, not knowing why._

"_It´s okay, Zoro," Smoker murmured, his evil grin widening. "Just don´t think it´s something bad. The noises are okay."_

_I couldn´t hold anymore. I knew it was bad, so fucking bas and dangerous and forbidden and B.A.D., but I couldn´t resist what it felt like; it was the best experience of my life back then. It felt just amazing; on the outside._

_My head tilted back, I started moaning and panting, still trying to hold my noises back, but just couldn´t help it. Smoker´s hand on my cock was picking up it´s pace and I was starting to feel even weirder. Something in my stomach was sending electricity through my entire body, making it shake uncontrollably. My toes were curling, my hands were clutching the sheets, my skin became sweaty._

_I remember that kid´s feeling: something was going to explode in me, something was going to come out. It never happened to me before. I didn´t know._

_I was an idiot kid._

_That night, Smoker took something away from me. Carried it out of my room, out of my life, out of my soul, out of my heart. I don´t really believe in that kind of shit, but thinking of what had happened to me, just makes me wonder you know. Bad things should happen to those who deserve it. Not to the innocent ones. _

_I was a kid. _

_Innocent kid._

_I didn´t deserve Smoker´s hands on my immature body. _

_I didn´t deserve his voice whispering nasty words to me._

_I didn´t deserve his giant dick tearing my twelve-year-old body apart, making me bleed for the rest of the night, making me fear every older man, making me cry myself to sleep, making me scream in agony._

_I didn´t deserve it. I fucking didn´t._

_But it had happened._

_And I fucking ain´t over it._

-oOOo-

No one would ever believe me. Not that I´d tell anyone. I would not. I don´t want to share this part of my life.

Walking through the main avenue to the plaza and into one of the side streets, I see the neon lights of 'Pirate´s entertainment'. I smile internally. I don´t remember how to smile in a real life. My muscles are too lazy to smile.

I walk in, pulling off my rain-soaked jacket, probably scaring off few customers with my appearance. I don´t blame them. I´m okay as I am.

Alone.

I pass the shelves and tables with DVDs, games and occasionally CDs, nodding as a greeting at the guy by the cashier´s desk. He´s worked here for as long as I can remember, but somehow I failed at meeting him personally and officially. I´m not even sure what´s his name. Brook, maybe? The only thing I know is that he´s been working here for long time now, and he does many things. Though I don´t actually know what kind of things.

Maybe he likes to sing and play guitar. Boss said something like that once.

"Hey Zoro." I hear a familiar voice, turning around to meet the sparkling eyes of tall and weird looking guy.

I nod at him. I´m in no mood for talking, as usual. I´m thinking of my central heating.

"Had a bad day at school, kid?" he asks, more like just politely – even though he´s not the one to be polite much. "No work for you today in here, but if you want, it´s Usopp´s shift soon so you can take care of my job here while I go grab some food." He says with a smile on his smug face. So Usopp´s gonna be here soon too.

I shake my head in dismiss. He´s helpless.

It´s not like I want to do his silly job, though I have no idea what else could I possibly do in the store today.

Sanji shrugs his shoulders. "Well then, go see the boss. Maybe he´ll let you divide the DVDs again. We got some new action movies, so you might as well hang the posters. And there´s some mess in the storeroom, so if you wanna take some sleep, clean up in there." I scowl. First Sanji says 'go see boss to get the instructions', but then he bosses me around himself. I scowl some more. Typical.

He pisses me off. All the damn time.

I punch him with a silly look on my face. He doesn´t even bother to duck it. First, he knows I have no strength in my arms lately, and second… he can take it.

"Getting pretty soft, ain´t ya?" he grins, grasping my wrist in a painful and secure grab. "Should do something about yourself. Somebody´s going to kick your ass real hard one day, if you keep this up." Sure, but I already know that.

I´m staring at his shiny blond hair covering half of his face. Sometimes makes me wonder if his eye is okay, or if he pulls his hair back when he´s home alone. I´ve known this guy my entire life, but never seen his both eyes. Ever. Funny fact of the day.

He gives me this piercing look, almost as piercing as professor Dracule´s, and shakes his head. Seems irritated. "Go see the boss. He wanted to talk to you."

I simply nod and walk away. Sanji pisses me off. But he´s a friend, been one for more that four years. Our relationship started out incredibly and at first we didn´t talk at all, both too serious and distant, but then he kicked me and I punched him, and since then, we´re like those members of the weird duo that hate each other, but in the end, we would actually stand up for the other one. I guess. Not like I´d do it though. Sanji can kick some asses.

I know I´m being sentimental, but if I could pick a brother, I´d want him.

We don´t talk much, we don´t do any funny things together, but after all I guess we´re _something_ like best friends. Sometimes I stay over at his place, sometimes he gives me ride back to school, sometimes he makes me food and sometimes he lends me his clothes. And I can do nothing but accept his unbearable kindness, because I´m the most pathetic creature ever.

I knock at the boss´ office door, waiting for a reply. None.

I knock again.

Again.

Again.

I turn around and see Sanji bursting out in laughter.

"Haha! Just fucking with you, kid. Shanks is having a lunch with Makino and the kids right now." Sanji´s laugh makes me want to punch him real hard, but also it´s making me want to occupy my facial muscles and smile a bit.

But my face is not used to smiling, therefore I do nothing but snort and go to the big box with lots and lots of DVDs.

"You gonna divide them again?" Sanji is trying his best to start a conversation, but I´m not in the mood. If I´m not in the mood, I just won´t talk. And people can think of me whatever they want. I don´t care.

I don´t respond, just start dividing. That´s enough of an answer as it is.

Sanji sighs. "You´re a pain." He comments.

_I know._

-oOOo-

I´m watching my arm. It looks like from a horror movie. From underarm to wrist it´s like someone was trying to make me bleed for the rest of my life. Well, I was the one trying to do that, but never mind.

I look at the new fresh cut. It´s five inches above my wrist and particularly deep. It will leave a nice big scar that will make me remember. I like these kinds of cuts. They will stay forever, won´t just fade away like memories do sometimes. That´s why I have them, after all. To remind me, just in case I would want to forget.

Not that I ever could.

"_LUFFY!"_

I wrap the bandages up to my elbow. The rest of my arm is covered with T-shirt. Caressing the now covered skin gently, I scowl melancholically.

Should do something about my life.

"Ace, honey, are you ready?"

I jump up in shock. I forgot to lock the door. Mom is standing right behind them. I´m lucky she´s still so tolerant and doesn´t just storm in. She used to. She was afraid I was going to kill myself. And it was hard to explain to her that I´m doing it only to tie the memories to my body. Moms don´t understand these things. They´re not meant to. They just want to save their kids.

I don´t blame her. I´ve been pretty much a big trouble for my parents. For the past year I´m no use in the household, no use in school, no use in my business – that was art and finding people who would buy it, but now I don´t have the will to do any of it. I understand how mom feels.

It´s just that no one understands how _I_ feel.

"Yeah, be there in a sec." I respond, fastening the razor necklace around my neck. The blood is already wiped away, and I´ve cleaned up the basin. Blood is easy to wash away.

I hear her walk away.

Since last year and few months, I´ve been hearing nothing but people walking away.

Away from me, away from my presence, away from my reach and away from my bubble. No one tries to reach me anymore.

I don´t blame them. I know why I have my bubble. I don´t want anyone to reach me. I want to stay alone.

How could I blame anyone?

It´s all my fault. All my damn damn damn fault.

The accident. The blood. The glass. The regrets. The countless days spent in hospital. The pain in my parents´ eyes. My friends walking away. My life falling into pieces.

It´s just my fault. Mine, and mine alone.

And I don´t need anybody´s help.

"Ace?"

"Sorry Mom. Coming."

-oOOo-

The storeroom is one big mess. That´s good. Good news for me. At least once in a week.

The messier it is, the longer it will take to clean up, reorganize, not to mention there are several boxes of new inventory that needs to get scanned and labeled. If I'm lucky, I'll be here late for the next three days that I'm scheduled. It´s not today, but boss and the others got used to my presence even if I don´t need to be here. I don´t expect anyone to pay me, and they don´t expect me to ask for money. I know my place.

Unlike Sanji who just keeps messing with boss´ patience. Fortunately for that blonde idiot, Shanks is phlegmatic. Incredibly.

I pull off my dirty and rain-soaked clothes, watching my skin blaze with sweat mixed with another salty liquid that is the stupid rain. I should feel cold, but I´m kinda used to it. Central heating still doesn´t work. I don´t mind being cold anymore. Actually, I think I´m better walking in the rain than sitting in the apartment. It´s warmer outside, anyway.

I grab the red 'Pirate´s Entertainment' T-shirt and try to fit myself in it. It´s just about the right size these days. I mean, like three or four months ago it didn´t fit me over chest. I was more muscular. But since I don´t have the time to work out, nor the money to buy some nutritious food, I´ve been losing weight lately. By now it´s been minus ten kilos. It´s not that bad, but I can see myself looking different than usual. I´m pale, not that cute handsome boy I used to be. I´ve been much darker, used to have nice olive skin. Now I look like a zombie.

I look pathetic.

Everybody thinks so. Smoker more than the others.

I look at my reflection in the not-so-big and not-so-clean mirror we have in the storeroom. Won´t be long and I can start counting my ribs.

Instead of pitying myself and my changing figure from sexy muscles to poor skin and bones, I grab the first box I see and walk into the store to start my work. For today, I decided to divide it. I can come tomorrow too and label it. I doubt that anybody will mind. I don´t want Shanks´ money. I just want a shelter from my own life. A shelter to keep myself alive and safe and warm.

I didn´t realize it before, but I´m wearing only the T-shirt and I´m absolutely fine. Well, that´s the power of central heating.

I set the box aside and run my fingers through my still-drenched hair. I don´t know why I´ve never dyed it, not even once. I thought about it, since the kids in school have been calling me weird, but by middle school it didn´t matter that much. Plus I don´t really care about my own appearance. I used to work out, but only so I would be able to protect Mom. Now she doesn´t need my protection anymore, so I stopped caring.

I never thought about making myself good-looking for girls. I don´t really care for them. There are few girls in the school that might be my type, but… well, you know. My mind is sort of blocked.

"_So rare… just beautiful. Perfect. Touchable._"

Suddenly I start to feel sick. I grab my knees, bending over and gasping for air. I feel like throwing up, but I haven´t eaten for some time now. I want to die. I want to sit down and wait for Sanji to gather me and take me to his apartment so I can rest there. He does that, and pretty often. When I have one of my mental breakdowns. Sometimes I just black out and stop functioning like a normal person, because I can´t go on anymore.

I do none of these things. I busy my hands instead. That helps.

_Don´t think about it._

I set about organizing the DVDs into their different genres, working fast. It's calming, really. Moving the slick plastic cases back and forth, back and forth, like the waves of the ocean. I used to love the ocean, but we don´t go there anymore. I usually work during the summers, enjoying the fact that I don´t necessarily have to be home that often. Every minute that I don´t have to be home is a vacation to me. I love going to school, I love going to work.

I hate being home.

You'd think the repetition would make me sick of this job in a month, but it doesn't. I love it. I love my job.

Tracks change, filling the store with the sounds of a promising up-and-coming American band. I sing along internally, deliriously empty of thought. How long has it been since I sang something aloud? Hm. Really really long. Though when Mom started to get sick, three years ago, I used to sing for her when she asked me to.

I'm almost done with the box, trapped between the Thriller and Horror section when somebody taps me on the shoulder, "Uh, do you–"

I nearly break the DVD I´m holding, my fingers shutting together and grasping desperately. The plastic case cracks silently and I´m frozen in the place.

I turn toward whoever touched me, totally shocked and stiffened. My body feels like it´s getting swollen in matter of seconds, like the light touch have sent some ultimate spell into my system.

He´s taller than me, bigger in general. Looks like one of those high school boys who will get every girl he wants. I´m pretty sure he would, if he wanted to, but his aura seems to be way too distant for that. He´s not the type to seduce people. He just grabs his prey and walks away with it. That´s the kind of person I see in him, even though I´m not sure who he is.

The Handsome boy.

I don´t know his name. I´m just watching him in an ultimate shock, absolutely paralyzed. He´s staring back at me, probably surprised that I´m reacting to him this way. Guess he´s not used to people who don´t like him. Well, I´m not saying I don´t like him. I just don´t like the fact that he´s here. His black hair, not too long and not too short, is dripping with water. His white shirt is soaked.

I can see his muscles. I can see his skin. I can see his nipples. They´re swollen, hard from the cold weather.

_Don´t think about it._

I look away immediately, trying to focus on anything else but him. There´s nothing to watch really, so I go back to his eyes. I don´t like the fact that I have to look up, tilt my head a bit when I want to look in his face.

He probably doesn´t know what to say to me to break the weird moment and make the heavy atmosphere a bit lighter. He pets the DVD he´s holding in his hands instead.

"Uh, hey." He tries it again.

I´m surprised. I usually don´t get second chances.

As I´m thrown out of my comfort zone, I nod at him and brush past him, careful not to make any physical contact again. _Nobody touches me_.

_Nobody._

Not Mom, not Johny, not even _Sanji_. Not even Smoker.

He hasn´t touched me in months. Almost half a year. I thought it was over…

I shake my head, coming back to myself. I set the nearly empty box on a random chair standing by the cashier´s desk and take out a sticky material we use to hang the posters with.

I notice that Usopp has already come for his shift, like Sanji said, and right now is talking to a customer about Twilight or whatever. So unfortunately for me I can´t ask him where the posters are.

Luckily, me and Usopp developed an incredible ability of communicating without me speaking. I usually just move my eyes a bit, and he understands, smiles sweetly as he does, and helps me with anything I need. Since I came here, I´ve never heard him complain.

What a weird guy, that Usopp.

"Sorry," I hear the boy´s voice from behind me.

_Shit!_

Nobody sneaks up on me, dammit. How comes I´m so… distracted? That´s not good. Better not come home today.

"I´m… I was just wondering… could you uh," his tone isn´t very friendly, but it isn´t dismissive either. How uncommon. "Well, this is awkward." He comments.

I look at him, not really waiting for him to finish his sentence. I just want to listen to his voice. It´s sort of rusty and cracked, but I like the sound of it.

This guy is not fake. I don´t know how I know, I just know. His eyes. It´s because of them. They´re like two deep pools filled with true, real emotions.

It´s there, yelling in my head, squirming in my guts, waiting for me to fall asleep so it can suffocate me. I´m staring at him patiently.

He´s not fake.

"Well, I didn´t know you work here. Of all places." What does he mean by that?

I watch him scratch his arms. He has bandages.

"How could you?"

He´s about as shocked as I am. My voice sounds old and damaged, I haven´t spoke up for days, many days. But I did. Out of sudden, I just spoke up. That doesn´t happen. It never happens. I don´t even talk to Mom, to Sanji, to… anybody. And today it´s the second time I´ve spoken up. This is a prelude to something dangerous.

I want to run away.

How can he know? Why is he here?

I´m confused too much.

I spot the posters and grab them, walking through the store to the windows so I can hang them.

"Hey, I´m sorry. I didn´t mean anything by it. Just wondering if you have any good action movies. From 20th century, preferably."

He likes old movies. Maybe it´s not for him. Maybe it´s for his little brother. Maybe for his girlfriend.

I shrug one shoulder and point at the part of the store dedicated to action movies.

"Sweet." He comments.

I go back to my own business. He goes back to his.

It´s all forgotten. Is it forgotten?

He picks something random.

"Thanks, Zoro." He knows my name? He knows my name.

I´m shocked again. I nod.

"See you in school." He knows.

He sees me.

He knows who I am, he knows I go to the same school. He knows my name. He knows how it sounds. He knows how to pronounce it. He knows. He knows too much.

I want to run away more than ever before. How can he know?

I want him to leave my territory. My life. I want to be anonymous again. I don´t want to talk to him. I don´t want to be friends. Or allies. I don´t want any of that shit. I want us to be two separate people. His aura is too strong, too shiny and too influencing, all the things that I´m not. I want him to go way and never come back.

I nearly reach out to grab his shoulder and talk to him.

I want to ask him questions.

Why he's here.

Why he knows my name.

Why he even bothers to try and carry a conversation with me.

Why he's got freckles.

Why he is constantly rubbing his forearms.

I just nod to myself and go back to sorting.

It´s bothering me really. Really really really.

I don´t want this. I don´t deserve this.

I want to be alone. I want him to leave me be.

Later that day, I´m with Sanji. We´re in his apartment, like usual. He´s used to me spending the night. It´s like I´m living with him, anyway. I´m trying to stay there as much as it´s possible. I don´t like to be home.

It´s a bother since we bicker most of the time about totally random shit, like who eats better with chopsticks and who´d be better at DVD labeling competition, but I don´t talk much, so it´s bearable.

Sanji is bearable.

He asks if we´re friends.

I think. I think and think and think until my heads starts pounding. Damn Sanji. Damn that guy from the store.

"It´s Portgas D. Ace, isn´t it?" Sanji asks.

My heart nearly explodes.

_Portgas D. Ace._

It´s him_. Him_.

"Well, just thought you know him personally. If no, then sorry." Sanji mumbles, watching me freeze again.

Portgas D. Ace. It´s him. Him. Him him him him him.

The blonde looks my way, watching me. "Such a pain Zoro. I honestly don´t remember the last time I had slept here alone." He comments. "Want some food?" Request with no point. I´m already on his couch, covered with his blanket. It´s obvious I´m staying here for tonight again, and that I´m going to eat his food.

Sanji is one of those very few people I´m thankful for keeping my stomach filled occasionally.

I only nod.

Portgas D. Ace.

It was him. He sees me. He knows me. He sees what´s inside.

It takes and addict to realize an addict, doesn´t it?

My head is confusing me.

**Okaaaay, let´s get something clear!**

**I was NOT planning on posting this. Nope. Not at all. It was not meant to be posted, but I got bored and suddenly I´m updating. Oh well. Oh well. The fic itself is still going onwards, but I wasn´t planning on posting the next chapter at all.**

**And now!**

… **Thank you for the lovely reviews! It might have happened that I didn´t thank you personally by PM, but you all know I love you and appreciate every effort you put in the lovely words you send me :3 Thanks!**


	3. Sorrowful pain

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Sorrowful pain**_

I´m feeling like a bunch of shits again. I´m feeling guilty and rude. Like I just did the top forbidden thing in the entire universe. Like the kid that one day realizes 'this is not how my mom raised me'.

I intruded his life. I just burst in, shaking his entire well-built system of privacy and loneliness. That just didn´t feel right, and I´m not the type to think of things like this. I usually don´t bother with other people´s problems. I don´t care. I have my own demons.

But he seems like a real piece of a broken toy. Like he´s impossible to be fixed. Like he was made of porcelain and somebody slammed him against the ground really hard. He looks fragile, even though his body seems strong. His eyes have tendency to skip from spot to spot. Like he´s keeping an eye on everything. Not really focused, just alerted. A lot. He´s probably not the type to let anybody get to him.

And I just popped in and wrecked his daily surviving routine. He seemed… really moved. In the wrong way.

"Hey, I´m sorry. I didn´t mean anything by it. Just wondering if you have any good action movies. From 20th century, preferably." My voice sounds dull. I was a bit surprised by his reaction. Seen him in the school before, seemed like a loner to me, but I never thought he´d be this touchy. He looked like he wanted to jump out of his own body just to get the feeling of my fingers on him off. I understand. I understand?

No, I freaking don´t.

I´m not sticky. I´m not toxic. I´m not some weird form of life that is trying to make contact. I´m human like him, maybe one or two years older. He has no right to run away from me. I don´t accept that. I won´t accept that.

After this very awkward situation, I walked off to the part of the store I was recommended. Actually, I came for a comedy mom asked me to get her, but I didn´t want to ask him for one. I´m not the type to feel ashamed of what I want, but this kid is making me uneasy. He´s kicking me violently right out of my comfort zone. It´s like he´s setting me on fire whenever he´s around.

I kept sticking around until I found something worth the money I had in my wallet, and bought the DVD I eventually picked. The guy at the cashier´s desk was grinning for some reason, and some random blonde worker from the store was watching me carefully. Maybe they were his friends? Maybe they thought I was one of the kids that have nothing better to do than gossip about people they never knew.

"Here´s your change." The guy with long dark hair and goggles says, handing back what was left of my money. He kept smiling.

Making me uneasy.

"Thanks."

I grab the money and walk out, silently looking for the boy I was talking to. Zoro. Roronoa Zoro.

He´s not there anymore.

On the way back we stop in in the grocery shop. Mum does the business on her own. I´m staying in the car for I´m not feeling like interacting with the outside world. It´s a shitty weather anyway. No reason to go out.

Maybe I should feel guilty for being such a bad son and letting mom shop on her own, struggle with the bags on her own and walk in the rain on her own, but my feelings and emotions generally are pretty much fucked up, so I´m not overreacting. I should feel guilty, but I don´t feel things like these.

For now, I´m fine in the car. Car is safety; at least in public places. Even though it´s raining, I´m okay. Just telling myself not to think about it.

Few months ago if mom would leave me in the car alone, I´d probably freak out and commit a suicide; or at least I´d try. Now it´s getting better. My nightmares are not so bad anymore, and imagination is getting weaker, too. I´m gaining some self-control. Memories are very slowly fading; not entirely of course, just the very depressing details. Emotions are staying, though.

I look the supermarket´s way, checking if mom isn´t anywhere nearby.

I push up my sleeve slowly and caress the bandages. I´ve pulled on a sweatshirt since I got out of the store; I felt cold. Now it´s bothering me. It´s fitting kinda tight, and blocking my view of the memories I´ve tied to my body.

Running my finger up and down the covered skin, I feel the familiar fist clench in the inside of me. The lower belly. It sends slow and small electric shocks down to my crotch.

I want to push the bandages up, too, but when I look up to check the surroundings, I see mom with two bags.

I pull the sleeve back down where it´s supposed to be. I frown and sigh.

I open the door.

"Mom. I´m gonna help."

-sSSs-

"Maybe we could grab something on the way home?" mom says in her lovely honey-covered voice, driving us through the town to our quiet suburb filled with big houses of rich people. We´re not really one of them – if you know what I mean. We´re normal family. Or at least we used to be. We´re not those stuck-up asses who need to have their lawns flawless. Just a normal family…

I start to feel pitiful for saying such thing.

We´re nothing near normal.

"I´m not hungry." I reply quietly, looking out of the car window. I watch the outside world pass in front of my eyes.

People, plants, cars, buildings, lights, animals.

It´s all just temporary. Fleeting.

I blink two times and what I´ve seen before is already gone.

Maybe mum drives too fast.

But she doesn´t. Not anymore. And probably never again. It´s one of those blocks that she´s going to carry with her for the rest of her life.

She used to love driving cars, you know.

And as many things she used to love, I took that away from her.

She never stomps on the pedal harshly anymore. She lightly presses it down with her thumb and waits for the car to slowly move almost on it´s own, like the wind was supposed to push it forward. We´re driving hardly over 50 kilometers per hour. Plus it´s raining again, so the usual twenty minutes ride will be thirty.

I don´t mind being in car anymore. I´m pretty much fine these days.

I look at my arms.

_Pretty much fine_.

_You´re pathetic_.

"Are you sure, honey? I haven´t seen you eating ever since we had lunch."

How can she be this nice to me? Is she pretending? Lying even? Is she tricking me because she doesn´t want me to feel down and cut my wrists for good? _How can she be so nice to me?_

I´d honestly hate myself. And I do hate myself.

There´s nobody more loving than my mom in this world. I would do anything for her. Yet, I sit there, doing nothing. Just giving her more and more pain to bear.

How typical of me.

"It´s already six, you know. You need to eat to gain some strength." She notes with a gentle smile. I´m not looking, I just hear it in her voice.

Feels like those old times. We were kids and she was telling us to eat well so we´d grow up into strong boys.

I shrug one shoulder. "Sorry mom. Not hungry." I mumble, mentally preparing myself for the razor that I´m going to use to punish myself later. For being this way.

To punish myself? _To make yourself better._

She sighs very silently, trying not to upset me. But I can hear it. And I´m most definitely not upset. I´m the one who´s going to be hungry. Why does she care?

"_I´m your mom, Ace. I will always care."_

I want to throw up. I´m feeling sick and tired. My head starts pounding and spinning, my vision getting blurry. I feel like passing out, but instead I slowly close my eyes and start rubbing my temples.

"Are you sick, darling?" mom asks, slowing the car down. I´m pretty sure she´d stop here, in the busiest part of town, just so I could calm down a bit. But I don´t want her to do it, ever. She´s doing so much for me that I can´t take it. My wrists probably wouldn´t take it as well.

I shake my head quickly, snapping back to reality. "No mom, I´m fine. Just… just drive. I need to get some sleep."

She sighs again, but in relief. She smiles my way. "Same here." She comments and goes back to driving, going a little above fifty.

My chest hurts.

I can't breathe.

My arms itch.

Ache.

Burn.

I don´t think I can take this for much longer. I need someone to fix me up; but I´m too much of a broken toy to be ever fixed.

-sSSs-

_It was raining that night. _

_The sun was hidden above the thick blanket of grey clouds crawling across the sky, not interested in the world anymore._

"_Hurry up, boy!" mum called for me, laughing occasionally at my dad, trying to handle his chopsticks. "Luffy´s not going to wait for ever!"_

_I ran down the stairs. "Mom!" I screamed excitedly, eager to see my little brother after a whole week spent on the school trip. "Mom, I´m gonna drive!"_

_I ran past her like she even wasn´t there. _

"_I don´t know, Ace. I don´t like the look of that sky." Her beautiful face looks worried, troubled even. _

_I wouldn´t understand back then._

"_It´s okay mom. I can drive."_

"_Maybe I should, honey. It´s already raining –"_

"_Come on mom. It´s _just_ a rain."_

_It wasn´t just a rain. It was the Devil´s punishment for good people. Maybe he was angry with us for having a nice life. Maybe he was jealous of our family being so happy and nearly flawless. Maybe we were never meant to be._

_I jumped into the car, turning the headlights on, almost forgetting to wait for mom to join me. I couldn´t wait to see Luffy again. It was just a week, but it felt like ages to me. We were always like this, me and Luffy; used to each other´s presence. It felt too empty with him being away. It was even making me resist going to collage. I couldn´t bear the fact that I wouldn´t be able to see by little brother every day._

"_Be careful, okay? The road is slippery."_

_We picked Luffy up at the train station. I ran up to him, grabbed his and lifted him, like he was still a kid. He was protesting rather vocally, but kept laughing all the way to the car. Mom kissed his forehead and said she was happy to see him again. _

"_Wow Ace! You´re driving so well!"_

_I laughed. He laughed. _

_It was a lie._

_He must have been scared. If I was him, I´d be scared. The Devil was already in my body._

_Luffy kept talking all the way across the town where we were supposed to pick up Sabo from his football practice. We were laughing and giggling. Sometimes mom would remind me to be careful._

_I wasn´t._

_Not enough._

_By the railway running through the city from another station, we knew almost everything about Luffy´s wonderful trip. He played basket, he met a girl called Nami, he found lots of new friends, he kicked somebody´s ass (mom wasn´t very happy about that, but laughed it off along with us), and missed mom´s cooking a lot._

"_Don´t you worry, Luffy. I´ve prepared some nice meet for you. Dad is watching over it."_

"_Whaaat! But he´s gonna eat it all before we get there!"_

_We didn´t. We didn´t get there._

_We weren´t supposed to get there._

_The Devil was there with us, waiting for an opening. _

_The rain got heavier by then. It even began hard to see well enough._

_Mom said we could change. We could stop at some parking place and switch places, just to be sure we´ll get there safe. We should have done that._

_I was stubborn. I didn´t listen to her. Luffy was complaining about some boy from his class._

"_It´s just a rain mom. It´s fine."_

_I thought I could make it. I thought we´d be just fine._

_We were supposed to pick Sabo up. Drive back home. Have mom´s wonderful dinner. Laugh and play cards. Let dad tell us about his first school trip, like every time one of us went for a trip. We were supposed to carry on with our lovely and perfect life._

_But he would not let us. The Devil had other plans._

_Maybe it was God. Who knows.¨_

_Who cares._

_Suddenly, the lives of five people changed. Just out of blue. _

_I have no idea what was it. I can´t remember much. And I doubt that I saw enough._

_The car was suddenly spinning. Only a block away from the football field where Sabo was waiting for us to pick him up, swearing and hating us for being late._

_We were late. Damn late._

_The world flashed before my eyes as the car was flipping._

_Mom cried out our names._

_Luffy screamed some sound._

_The glass popped out, splattered all over us. I could feel it everywhere; literally. My eyes are screwed together, but I felt the tiny pieces of glass damn well in my skin._

_My chest._

_My face._

_My neck._

_My arms mainly._

_I nearly crashed the break with my foot, nearly broke the wheel with my hands gripping it so tightly. _

_I couldn´t make smallest of sounds at that moment. It was all so fast, too quick for me to register. I felt like my life was slipping through my fingers, along with the lives of my dearest ones. _

_Mom was silent. Luffy too._

_We were all dead._

-sSSs-

I snapped back to reality at the flashing lights of police, ambulance and possibly fire brigade. Somebody pulled me out of the wrecked car and carried away.

I couldn´t even look back. Mom. Luffy.

What happened?

Where are they?

Sabo was still probably waiting at the football field, hating us even more for not coming for him. Maybe he´s even walked home already. I started crying unconsciously.

When I woke up again, I was in hospital. They were picking up some glass from my… well, everything, really. In that moment, arms.

The doctor looked me in the eyes, grabbed a tiny thing I didn´t notice at all and suddenly, I was blinded by a flashy light.

"Are you alright, Ace? Do you know where you are?" he asked me, still trying to make me lose my nerves with that little flasher. Dammit, I wanted to take it away from him and throw it out of the window.

I guess that wouldn´t help.

"No…" I mumbled instead.

He took out another piece of glass. "You´re in the hospital, Ace. Your reflexes seem to be okay." He finally set the damn thingy aside.

Hospital.

It all flashes in my mind, and I feel like I´m going to throw up.

Mom. Luffy. The car. The glass.

I looked at my arms. My torso. I noticed I was half naked, and not in my own clothes. I was wearing those itchy and not very likeable hospital pajama pants, my bare feet fitted in slippers. Also from the hospital.

I started to blink in hysteria.

Mom. Luffy.

Mom.

Luffy.

Mom. Dad. Luffy. Sabo. Our dog.

"I – I – I have to go home." I announced, absolutely convinced that he´ll let me do whatever I please. I was used to that, to be honest.

He nearly laughed. "Oh, I´m sorry, but I think that won´t be possible. We still don´t know if your head and brain is okay. You need to do some tests before we let you go home." He explained, tapping my forehead.

I jerked my head back. "No, you don´t get it." I stated, headstrong as ever.

"No Ace, _you _don´t get it." He stopped being playful and cheery. His face scowled, shadows appeared in it and he started to look dead serious.

I shook my head in rejection, already figuring what he was about to tell me. "What do you – m – mean…"

He sighed heavily, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. He scrubbed the back of his head with his nails, then sighed again. "Well… right now, you don´t really… have a home to go to."

I felt like throwing up. I felt like jumping out of the window. I felt like grabbing the bloodied glass from the little trash with some doctor-medical-shit and pierce my neck with it.

Mom. Luffy.

Mom.

Luffy.

My family.

My life.

It was fading.

Thick mist covered my vision.

"Ace, you´re going into shock." The doctor said nearly calmly, grabbing my already clean and bandaged wrist, checking my blood pressure. "Come on. You have to stay strong –"

_For who?_ I wanted to ask him. _For fucking WHO?!_

My family was gone.

I wanted to die.

I should have died back then.

They decided to keep me over the night, just to make sure I was okay.

Somewhere between eleven and midnight, Dad came for visit.

I couldn´t bear even the thought of talking to him. Ever again. I wanted to die so badly.

It was all my fault, even though he said it wasn´t.

How could I ever talk to him again?

I killed his family, after all.

"_Don´t you dare blame yourself. It was just a horrible accident."_

What. Me staying alive? Yes, that was an accident.

He was talking to me about what happened, and what was going to happen. He broke down somewhere between Mom´s blood loss and Luffy´s pierced chest. The doctors didn´t know if they were going to be able to keep them alive. Probably not.

I killed them.

It was all my fault.

I´ve never seen my Dad cry. Ever, in my seventeen years. I wanted to run a huge sword through my chest. He, my Dad, the boss of bosses, was broken. And he was like that just because of his stupid, not-worthy-of-life son. I should not be allowed to live.

This at least shows that God makes mistakes, too. By choosing the wrong ones.

Luffy had future. Mom had three kids and a wonderful job she enjoyed and loved. Organizing weddings. I had nothing but silly dream of becoming an artist.

Dad was crying in my room until the dawn.

I was crying, too.

Then I realized I truly, truly hate myself.

-sSSs-

"So. Since the winter holidays are going to be a bit longer this year, shouldn´t I take out the whole family for a ski trip?"

Mom smiles widely. "That´s a lovely idea, dear! What do you say, kids?"

They´re both looking my and my brother´s way.

"Sorry." Sabo mumbles with poker face, no emotions slipping past his usual mask. "I signed in for Ice-Hockey practice. It´s already paid for, remember?"

Dad comically hits his head. "YOU are right! Dammit, I totally forgot about that one!" he exclaims, obviously trying to lighten the usual heavy atmosphere at the table. Unsuccessfully. We´re all used to it though, so who knows why he still bothers to make it better.

"Dear," Mom whispers his way. "Watch your tongue in front of the boys." She says as if she´s never heard us curse.

Actually, when we were younger, we used to do cursing competition. We loved it, until Mom found out.

He chuckles, his silly mustache bumping up and down. "Gahaha! Sorry, my sweetest – I just got carried away at the memory of myself joining a hockey club when I was Sabo´s age." He sang in a strong voice, putting an arm over Mom´s shoulder.

She looks my way, her long pinkish hair swaying as she moves her head elegantly. "How about you, honey? Would you like to go for a trip with us?" she asks with a happy smile on her face.

_Lies. It´s all lies._

"Actually," I speak up, putting my fork down into the plate. "May I go to my room? I´ve had a long day."

She looks at Dad, who looks back at her with a soothing face. _"I´m sorry your son is so evil, heartless and unable to work together."_ I know he would want to say it. But he can´t because his gentleman manners ban it.

They both smile. "Of course, son." Dad grins widely. "But make sure to eat that up before you go to bed!" he exclaims again, pointing at my practically full plate. Lately I´m not eating as much as I used to. Lost my appetite. I guess.

"Sure." I murmur, more like to myself.

I walk away from the kitchen, out of all those fake faces and burning lies.

"_We´re family."_

"_We´re going to stick together no matter what."_

"_Don´t blame it on yourself."_

"_It was an accident."_

"_We´ll support each other."_

All. Lies.

Fucking. Hateful. Fake. Unbearable. Lies.

I hate myself so much.

I walk past the family photos. They´re still all the same. Mom and Dad said that they don´t want to forget. We even have a shelf with Luffy´s photo on it, with candles and aromatic decorations we can light up when we want to pray.

I haven´t done it in two weeks. I´m so disgusting.

"_Honey. Would you like to come home early today? Dad is going to be here, too. We could pray."_

But we didn´t. I wouldn´t come. I couldn´t be able to look them in the eye.

I killed their son, after all.

I could have as well just killed my own mom, too.

I´m not surprised that they hate me. You know, they´d never admit to it, but the side looks, the cold arms they have for me, the unshed tears… I know. I know it all. They _must_ hate me. I hate myself. And I can´t bear thinking of praying with them for someone I have killed not much more than a year ago.

After the accident, and after we all came back from hospital, my life was a living hell. Dad demanded of me to go back to school immediately, because he wanted me to have Luffy´s good future which I stole away from him. There, my friends kept pitying me, soothing me, even hugging me and telling me it was all good, there there Ace, it´ll be fine again… but eventually, they all walked away.

I don´t blame them. I wouldn´t want to be friends with a murderer, too.

Mom was staying at home. Handed her business over to her close friend for some time.

I used to hear her cry herself to sleep at night. I used to pass her in the hallway with her eyes puffy and her nose red and still running. I used to avoid her touches, because I knew they were fake. She hated me more than anyone. I killed her child, after all.

But eventually, she started functioning again. She started to cook again, even Luffy´s favorite meals. She started to clean up again. Tidied most of the time. After three months or so, she went back to her business and pushed all of those awful memories aside. But the feelings stayed. She still hates me for what I´ve done.

Sabo… well, that´s chapter for itself. He truly despises me. But he´s dealt with it, too, though not entirely. He´s beaten the shit out of me. I still can feel the little scar I have over my lower lip. But this 'brotherly encounter', as my Dad labeled it, apparently wasn´t enough for him. Because he still can´t stick around me for too long. He really tries to, for Mom, but I understand it´s hard for him. I understand that he meant to kill me. But promised to Dad not to do it anymore.

There was this one time when he broke down, too. Mom wanted to clean us Luffy´s room, and Sabo lost it. You know, we used to visit psychiatrist, as a family, for over six months, and he´s never let a single tear run down his face, never saying more words than you could count on your fingers. But when Mom tried to touch Luffy´s bed sheets, stuffed animals he kept since he was a kid, or his sketchbook… I´ve never seen my parents this terrified. Though I guess they´ve never seen their son this way.

This raging. This hateful. This out of character.

I´ve never heard him scream so much.

But still.

The only one who´s stuck where he is, is me.

I´m not over my demons.

And I don´t see myself getting over them anytime soon.

My little brother… he meant a lot to me. To all of us.

I step up to my room. Pass my closet and walk straight over to my bed. I pull off my clothes, all of them. Tugging off my socks and underwear, I grab a towel and make sure to keep my razorblade pendant on.

I walk into my bathroom – yes, this house is enough to fit in four rooms and four bathrooms, plus all the rooms needed in the ground floor – and lock the door.

I turn on the water. Wait for it to go warm enough. Then I step in, letting the water splash over my slightly sweaty body.

Ah. Good God.

I pull the pendant over my head, my hair getting wet in matter of seconds. It sticks to my face. I brush it back, tilting my head as well.

I look at my scarred arm. It´d take a plastic surgery to make it look normal again.

I slowly, oh so slowly, press the cold object into my skin.

Yes… just a little above the scar.

I´m getting hard. The blood is running down my arm and I moan lightly. I press more harshly. I moan out a bit louder as the sharp steel cuts my skin open, parting it, ravishing it. Maybe I´d even be considered handsome, but since I like to destroy my body, I´ll probably just have to go with 'well, he doesn´t talk much'.

I look down. The blood is lazily floating in the water, licking my toes and slowly disappearing.

There was a lot of blood. More than earlier this day.

I´m hard. I always get too hard when I do this.

I jerk off as quickly as I can.

Go to bed.

I look at my newest memory, glazing over the alabaster skin.

I´ll never forget.

As much as I happen to be narcoleptic, I don´t sleep that night.


	4. Choking

**Chapter 4**

**Choking**

* * *

I glare at the railway, waiting for a certain train to appear above the horizon. I´ve been waiting here for over thirty minutes, and it´s gotten chillier since this morning. It´s been raining all day, and the air makes the tips of my fingers red with coldness.

Well, I hope Kuina´s wearing something warm enough to keep her fine when we come home. The damn central heating is still broken, and there´s no way I could afford a convector, even the cheapest one. There´s no guarantee Smoker will give me some money for Kuina´s food or anything else she might need, nor I can rely on the tiny possibility that he´d actually go grocery shopping. He hasn´t done that since Mom got sick.

So I can´t be selfish. I know I´d buy the heater mainly for Kuina to place in her room, but it´s also my room. And Mom would just keep on being cold.

Fuck. You can never really win.

I feel guilty just thinking of having the money to buy a heater.

I sigh heavily, looking over at a green rusty bench, thinking my bony ass would probably freeze off if I sat down.

Why the fuck does it have to be so cold?

Then I hear a siren. Train coming in. I jump up a bit, glad to know that I can at least warm up a bit while walking home.

I roam my eyes over the train, wondering if I can see Kuina through one of the windows. Doesn´t seem so. I can´t even see anybody else; maybe it´s a different train? I shake my head automatically. No, Kuina´s train is the only one that should arrive at this hour. It´s nine in the evening; not many trains come to the city during the evening.

But still; the train should be stuffed with kids, since she was on a school trip.

I try to look harder, narrow my eyes a bit. Doesn´t help much, though. In fact, I should be wearing glasses, but I sold them quite some time ago and bought new notebooks and a pen for Kuina.

The train stops and I desperately hope for Kuina to appear between the doors. If she doesn´t, I´m going to start panicking.

The door opens and few people get out. No kids at all. I feel the familiar tingling in my stomach before it clenches, not because of the hunger, but because I don´t know what to do. What if she´s not there?

Well, no other kids from her class are there, so maybe it´s not the right train, after all. Maybe their train was late. Yeah.

Yeah.

I take a deep breath. Yeah.

Yeah.

"Oni-chan!"

I violently whip my head up again, staring at the door.

Oh dear God, thank you.

"Kuina!" I yell, a flash of a tiny smile appearing on my face, then fading away again. "Over here!" I scream loud enough to get my voice across the hall full of trains that had ended their trip for the day already. It hurts; I'm not used to talking aloud… or talking for that matter.

"Aye!" She yells back, jumping off of the train and running my way.

I kneel down and wait for her to reach me. She stops right in front of me. "Oni-chan." She states dryly.

I cock a brow. "Hu?"

She´s frowning. "Have you been eating while I was away?" she questions me with a peculiar grimace climbing up to her childish cheeks.

I blink several times. "U-uh… Kuina…" I mumble, thinking of one thousand and one way how to brush this topic off. Kuina is not stupid; she notices when my stomach growls while I hand her my breakfast, saying I´ve already eaten. "You… I… well, yes, I have. Why?" I lie to her, but only because I have to.

She grins. "Cause otherwise it´s weird hugging you!" she puts the cheery face back on, jumping around my neck and squeezing me to her tiny body. I´m sort of glad to be wearing the big jacket that originally belonged to Smoker, so she can´t feel how skinny I´ve become.

"Hey," I suddenly snap out of my crappy thoughts, letting go if my little sister. "Hey. Where´s your stuff? And the others? And the teacher?" Oh please, just don´t tell me you did something stupid.

"Well," crap. The you-actually-cannot-kill-me-because-I´m-your-sister face is back. "The teacher said we were going to stay for one more day, but when I told her you were going to wait for me today, she got angry and told me to stay with them and stop being the stubborn kid I am. And…"

I raise my brows, grabbing her shoulders nervously. "And?" I urge her.

"And I sort of packed my things and went off." She blurts out, squeezing her eyes tight shut, facing away from me.

I let go of her to rub my sore temples. "Kuina…" I groan in defeat. "You shouldn´t… now they´re going to look for you, and you know that nor me, nor you, nor Mom have cell phone… and the house phone stopped working last month… dammit…"

She takes a step back. "It´s not that! I met a nice man while waiting for my train, and he talked to me and I said I was going to meet –"

"Kuina!" I shriek in a shock. "Are you – I though we had a rule about talking to strangers!"

"But he´s not! He said I looked familiar – "

"I fucking don´t care for what he said, you were _NOT_ supposed to –"

"Easy, easy,"

I freeze. By heart pounds. Too loudly. Blood rushes up to my ears and I´m suddenly feeling too sick to mind Kuina´s blabbering, or her little hand tugging on my sleeve.

That voice. That smell. How comes I haven´t noticed?

My eyes are getting blurred.

I have a feeling like I´m going to faint.

He´s so close…

"Don´t be so rash towards this young lady." I watch his freckled face smile my way. My heart just about explodes. "I saw her standing at the station and thought it might be dangerous if she went all by herself… so I kind of told her I knew you."

His voice is honey-coated, or at least that´s the way it sounds to me.

I want to run away.

Leave all behind.

Kuina. Mom. My body.

I want to run away. I don´t want to be this close to him.

"Freckle-san was real nice!" Kuina grins happily and turns towards him. "Say, Freckle-san, shouldn´t be Oni-chan glad I wasn´t going by myself?"

"Sure!"

I feel too sick to talk. I can´t even look him in the eye. My head spins.

"Uh, if you want to borrow my cell, go ahead. I would have called Kuina´s teacher, but I thought she might freak out if she heard a guy she never knew saying he was taking one of her students home. So…"

I shake my head frantically. "Why the heck are you doing this?" I ask, more myself than him.

He looks surprised. "W-well…" he looks down at Kuina, who´s about just as confused as he is. "I knew you had a sister, and she was holding your photo… so I thought I should help."

I sigh. My chest feels too heavy. "Well, shit."

"Oni-"

"Kuina, do you realize what kinds of problems are we going to have?" I´m losing patience quickly. I grab her wrist. "Do you not understand? Do you want to be taken away?"

Yes. There have been many social workers to our place; and it doesn´t seem that Kuina is going to be a part of this family for much longer. And that just about kills me.

And this little episode is not going to help at all.

Her eyes are glazed. All of a sudden, she´s playing this dirty.

"Oi, Zoro, don´t be like that. Kuina just didn´t want you to be worried that she´s not here." That jerk. It´s also his fault.

I try to calm down. I really, really try, hard. But my fighting spirit is pushing in harder.

Ace is watching me; I can feel it. His worried eyes are scanning my face, studying how it's changing. I put my hands over my face, hide it in my palms. I don't want him to see. I don't want him to look. I feel sick just thinking of the fact that he's standing this close to me.

"Zo –"

He reached out. He fucking reached out. He tried to touch me – he tried to touch my hand, I saw it. He moved towards me, even closer, and his hand tried to make contact with mine.

Nobody touches me.

Not mom, not Sanji, not even Smoker.

Not anymore.

Nobody touches me, and nor he will.

I turn on my heel, gesturing at Kuina to come with me. And I start walking off, not even thinking of taking her stuff for her. She'll have to deal with it today. Maybe when we're out of sight, I'll help her like usual. But for now –

"Oi, Zoro, what's wrong?"

He's not supposed to be following. Fucking no.

Ace stumbles behind us, carrying Kuina's bag. Of course. I should have seen this coming. The little kid is grinning, walking behind me. "Hey, at least let me call Kuina's teacher so there are no big problems. Kuina, sweetie, what's the cell phone number?"

I stop. Kuina nearly bumps into me, and that freckled idiot nearly bumps into her. I turn around, not looking into his eyes.

"Give me the damn phone."

-oOOo-

Simply put it, Kuina's teacher wasn't happy at all.

She promised to send a social worker to our place. Said something about Kuina not being safe with us. With me. Also, she mentioned the fact that by the end of the trip, her friends had to buy her food because she didn't have money anymore. She said it wasn't the life Kuina deserved. Then she waited for me to reply. I didn't say anything. After all, both Kuina and Ace were still there; I didn't want them to know what we were talking about.

So I said okay.

And brushed off all of the curious questions they had for me.

"Oni-chan," Kuina states carefully, seeing that I'm still not in the best mood. "Wasn't that Freckle-san really nice?" she asks.

I sigh and shrug.

"You know each other from school?"

I take a short inhale of breath before replying. Kuina is staring at me from the opposite wall of our room, sitting on her bed. "Not really," I say.

"Are you sure?" her eyes are wide and curious. "Because he said he knew you from school."

I move my head from side to side. "You shouldn't believe just anything people tell you. You don't know him."

"But he said he knew you!" she protests energetically.

"He might have been lying, Kuina."

"Well," she grimaces stubbornly, "so you might be, when you say you've been eating well."

We stop right there. I'm a bit shocked to hear this from her… but more likely, it pains me, because it's true. "Kuina…" I whisper, my voice breaking somewhere along.

That damn kid. She smiles slowly. "It was something about his eyes, you know. I could tell he was no bad man."

I sigh heavily. For some reason, she can read in people like in open books.

She looks away. "I know it was risky… but all I wanted was to see my oni-chan… and Freckle-san –"

"Ace." I'm surprised myself. "His name's… Ace."

"That's a cute name." Kuina giggles. "Oni-chan…." Suddenly, she's looking very serious. Her grey eyes are piercing mine as she talks. "Do you like Ace-san?"

-oOOo-

Next day goes normally; I pretend to be present in the class, but in fact I have no idea what is happening; at all. Something about history maybe. Who cares, anyway. Hours are somewhat happening to seep together and I can't tell which class am I attending.

It's not important.

Nothing is important.

The day after that is the same. And the next day is the same, too.

I go to roof for lunch, sit there alone. Usually, it's all I do. Not every day I have food to eat.

Freckle-face goes there, too.

Sometimes, he looks over at me. His eyes linger for a tiny moment, then they go back to his friends. They talk to each other, but he doesn't. Not always.

I know this because I watch him. Secretly, but I do. Somebody should lock me up. Punish me.

Punish for being this way.

I wish I wasn't this way.

I can't really tell why I enjoy going to the roof; and recently, I like to go up there even more. Maybe it's because I expect him to be there. Maybe it's because I enjoy the biting of coldness on my flesh. Maybe it's because I'm masochistic.

Yeah, that'd be it. I think.

But I can't bring myself to stop it. I like going up to the roof during lunch time. I like watching Freckle-face.

He watches me, sometimes, too. Just sometimes, but it happens. It gives me all kinds of weird feelings in my belly.

I don't know what to think about it. I'm scared to think about it. I don't want to think about it.

I hate to think about it.

It makes me feel really really weird.

Every day, I go up to roof and stare at him. And when he looks back, I turn away. I usually sit alone, occasionally with a random creep like I am, so he's not trying to approach me. It doesn't make much sense. Or maybe it does. Yeah, it does; he wouldn't approach me no matter what.

That's good.

I don't want him around.

I don't want to be friends.

I want to be distant, cold, unapproachable. Loner.

I don't want him around.

This goes on for two weeks. I'm spending lunch time on the roof, watching the grey sky and sometimes Freckle-face.

Since that thing with Kuina and him happened, I haven't met him in person; just passed by on hallway, or saw him on the roof. But we haven't talk ever since. I think it's good that way.

Kuina sometimes asks about him. She calls him by his name. I don't. Although I was the one who suggested she should, I'm refusing to do it. It might get too personal then, and there's nothing else I hate more then personal things. But Kuina says his name quite a lot, probably because she's noticing my face color change every time she does, so 'cold' and 'distant' is not how I would describe our relationship anymore. At least not on my and Kuina's side. Once she even asked is she could meet him again.

Yeah. She asks about him quite a lot.

And sometimes, she asks about Ms. Social Worker.

Sometimes, about Mom.

She doesn't want to know about Smoker, though. That's good, too.

Many things seem to be good, but 99% of them is brutally fucked up.

One afternoon, I'm headed for the roof again. It's not lunch time; school's already ended. But I'm not listed for work today, and Shanks has suggested he feels bad if I come and work and don't request money, so rather than going there and making everybody uneasy, I go up here to freeze my ass off. It's a shame I don't eat better; maybe I'd be less cold.

I stole Smoker's pack of cigars and sell it on black market on my way to school earlier. I bought some weed.

Yeah.

Helps me relax and feel numb.

I lit it up and take a deep breath before touching it to my lips.

"Hey,"

I blink in shock. Is this some kind of fucking shitty reality show or something?

Freckle-face comes closer, dragging his school bag behind himself. "Mind if I join you?"

I look away as soon as he's three feet from my sitting spot. He's looking at me, a small and awfully disgustingly friendly smile on his face.

I sigh.

Shrug.

He sits down.

We're both silent. He's like one foot away. Too close.

His body heat is radiating towards me.

I'm fucking cold.

"Can I burn with you?"

I turn my head a tiny bit his way. I don't look into his eyes. I hold out the blunt, taste the weird flavor on my tongue, then pass it to him.

"Thanks."

Silence again. Only those annoying sounds of city. He rubs his temple and breathes through his nose. I try not looking at him, but I can't help myself. Freckles. I think I like them.

Oh, fuck.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

He looks confused. I guess I look just stupid. A kid that doesn't talk suddenly said something.

"Why are you here?" I ask, strange expression in my face.

He smiles sadly, shrugging a bit, passing the blunt back to me. I take it very carefully, thinking that our fingers must not touch no matter what. "I want to be here."

I shook my head. "Ridiculous." I state.

He grins. "What exactly?"

"It's me in here…" I wonder if it's okay to talk this much. My head begins to hurt. I don't care. "Why would you want to be here, too?"

He takes the blunt from me again. "Dunno. Fells natural."

I'm staring into space. I have no idea what to say, what to think, what to do. I think I want to leave, but I guess there are some social conventions people should acknowledge. One of them, sadly, is 'do not leave while somebody's talking to you'. So I can't run away.

But I want to. I want to run away.

He has no right to say things like that.

I scowl. "How did you know I was up here?"

"Followed you."

I take the blunt.

We stay silent.

And it's okay with him. Johny never liked it. He accepted it, but I knew he wasn't very comfortable about it.

Why is Portgas D. Ace okay with it?

He shouldn't be. Fuck no. Fuck no. No no no.

I want to run. Fast and furious, and never come back.

We finish the weed. He throws the rest away.

More silence. And we're just sitting there.

I'm cold. Fucking cold. So damn cold my fingers are going numb. My nose must be red as a cherry. Shouldn't be though; weed usually makes me nice and weak-minded for a while. That's the reason why I smoke it; only during winters, though. I don't feel so cold when I can't focus on real world.

But it's not working today. Who the heck knows why, but I'm freezing. Maybe it's because I don't have it all for myself? I'm sharing today. Maybe it's not enough.

I look discreetly at Portgas. His cheeks are flushed. I guess he's cold too. And yet, he's sitting up here with me.

I don't like that. It's not okay. Not good. He should go away, run away. He shouldn't want to be here.

I'm cold.

"Your little sister is really cute." He says after what feels like hours of nothing. The sky is slowly darkening.

I pull my knees up to my chest. I'm too cold. I don't want him to notice.

"It's cute seeing a big brother taking care of a younger sibling like that." He notes.

I'm not looking at him. I'm listening to the sound of his voice. It's nice. The other sounds, noises from the city and sky, seem to disappear. Compared to Ace's voice, they're unimportant.

I'm feeling sleepy. Sleepy and cold.

It's getting dark.

"I have older brother."

I look his way, but not directly at him. I nod.

"He hates me."

It catches my attention, but not much. Many people dislike me. Hate is nothing new.

Ace scratches his forearms. Rubs them. I watch it.

"'S that a rash or something?" I ask.

He smiles again, in an odd way. "Not really." He replies calmly.

I'm cold.

I'd tell him I have to go home, but I wonder how long does he want to be up here with me. I'm curious about one's will to suffer. Isn't that suffering, being around someone you don't want to be around?

Although he said he's okay with it… I don't believe him. I just don't.

I'm a fail. He's not. He's not supposed to be here with me.

I don't want him here.

"Ain't you cold?"

I shake my head 'no'.

If he lies, I'll lie, too.

"You sure?"

I nod.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

"How about hungry?"

My stomach growls at the mention of food. "No."

"I am." He grins cheerily. "Wanna go get some take-away?"

-oOOo-

The week goes kinda calmly.

Shanks agreed to let me work three days in a week for actual money, after I come from school till the closing hours, and on weekends, too. It sort of made my days brighter; I had something to look forward to. Silent afternoons spent in the DVD store, sorting and labeling and such. I liked that idea. Anything that could get my mind off of those subject floating around it was good. Thinking too much hurt. And brought up things from the bittersweet past of mine. I enjoy working a lot, and Shanks seems to enjoy it, too. The others from the store like it as well because sometimes I do their jobs for them.

I don't mind.

Shanks' store is my top favorite place in the entire world.

Sanji said something about me being epically stupid for doing all those things for nothing. I didn't reply. He doesn't need my words; he can figure that if he talks too much, I'll punch him in the face.

We don't talk all that much, but from what I've gathered since last week, I know he's found a new 'lady'. I don't remember her name, though. I don't think it's important. That relationship or whatever it is isn't serious, or long-term-to-be, so my free-loading isn't endangered. Curly himself said he wasn't going to have her stay over, since she seemed like a gold digger. He keeps dating, but also lets me stay at his place from time to time.

I can't stay too much lately, though. Kuina's home a lot, which leaves me uneasy and questioning her safety. If we only had a relative who could _shelter_ her. I can't leave her at her friend's place all the time. Just imagine what would the parents of that friend say, or think.

Also, I have a lot of thinks to think of right now. I want to draw something, but I keep worrying that I'm just going to waste the paper.

And another social worker is about to pay us visit in two days.

Or a day?

I'm losing the trace of time. World is too loud. It makes me want to forget everything I knew.

Kuina keeps asking about Freckle-face.

I keep saying I don't know him much. Which is true. But she's just too unsatisfied with that sort of answer, so she asks more.

If I like him, his eyes, his hands, his voice. If I ever held hands with anyone. If I ever told someone I liked them. I seriously have no idea what's she trying to achieve by this, but I have a feeling that she's hoping to drive me crazy. Also, I wonder where she gets those things from. She shouldn't know about holding hands, let alone ask if I want to hold hands with another guy. World is weird these days.

But she still asks stuff like this.

I never gave her a proper answer, I believe.

She doesn't like that, but she's just going to need to deal with it. There are no good answers for questions like those.

Sometimes she asks about food and if I'm eating well, and that's even worse.

However, she never gets her answer. Which is good.

One of the days in the week, Wednesday, I think, I'm going through horror section in the store, looking for a DVD requested by one of our regulars. Usopp has a flu, so I'm at the cashier's desk today. It's sort of weird; some people are expecting a conversation from time to time, and I'm totally not willing to give it to them. But it's Wednesday. We barely had fifteen customers. And it got sunny for a change, so most of the people are outside, not looking for a movie to entertain themselves with.

I'm looking for that movie in our database on the computer. The guy said he didn't know the exact name, so I'm also looking on the internet for summaries. It's hella boring, but keeps me occupied while there's not much else to do.

Playing with my own fingers while drinking Sanji's soda – meanwhile he's on the phone with that girl of his – and standing by the counter, I notice the door open.

I don't pay it any attention. I'm too amused by the pencil tangled between my fingers and the computer screen that has frozen three minute ago.

I'm trying to form a picture in my head. Various kinds of things appear in my head, but mostly I want to draw Mom. It's been a while since I drew her, and I'm beginning to miss it. And I think she misses it, too. She likes to look at it. She thinks I'm a good son.

I'm not.

I'm a liar.

I always draw her the way I remember her before she got sick.

But it seems to make her feel better, even if just by a little. So I want to do it. I'm even thinking of drawing her, me and Kuina together as a birthday present. Belated birthday present, since I had no money back then, but I don't think she knows what date it is. I don't think she cares. Nobody cares. I asked Kuina not to disturb her, even though she wanted to give her a flower she picked up by the playground. It'd bring nothing but trouble. Because of all the pills she eats, her mind if kinda fucked up.

I sigh heavily and try to breathe through my nose to calm down. I put my hands on the counter and lean against it, eyes closed and muscles tensed.

I feel like I'm drowning again.

Thoughts about Mom make me miserable. More than they should. They make me sorrowful and irritated.

They make me want to screw everything. And just go. Go go go and go.

"Oi, you okay?"

I open my eyes instantly and shiver. Is it my imagination, or it's happening again? It's fucking happening again. Isn't it?

Oh god.

I nod quickly, turning my gazing eyes down as fast as I can. I never doubted he looks good while drenched from the rain; but with that face framed by sunshine, he looks downright stunning. Makes me want to forget who I am and just act upon my feelings.

Well, too bad.

I can't forget who I am. What kind of monstrosity lays within me. What abomination is hiding inside.

He leans against the mahogany table and grins widely. "When's your shift over?"

My breath hitches. My insides twitch and I feels like exploding. He's not even standing close and I feel warm and fuzzy in my belly.

His eyes.

Brown and big and sparkling. Everything I'm not and never will be.

And fuck, those goddamn freckles. Funny and carefree and playful and cute. Things no one will ever see in me.

And the way he looks, as if I was someone I'm not.

But that's okay. He doesn't know me. He knows nothing about my demons. He doesn't.

"Five." I mumble at last.

He scratches his forearms while still smiling so brightly it makes me burn.

He's setting me on fire.

What the fuck is he doing here? He's supposed to be with his friends. Or something. Not here.

"Fine," is all he says.

I'm burning.

After some time, when it's five or so, the door of the store opens again.

He walks in like the place belongs to him.

It doesn't. It's my fucking hideout. He had no right to destroy all the walls I've built. No one knows I work here, not Mom, not Kuina, not Johny, not even Smoker. Why should he know?

Fuck my life.

"Done now?" he asks.

I nod.

He makes me leave with him. I don't want to. He doesn't care.

He even touched my back. To push me out of the door. I was about to run back in, but as if he knew what my biggest weakness is, he did that one small thing that made me leave the only safe place in my entire universe.

Well, now it's not safe. He sees me.

He knows me.

Feels me.

The place his fingers lingered upon is burnt. It feels like I can never brush that feeling off. My eyes are wide and scared and avoiding him.

I don't think he minds.

He's not looking my way, either.

He's munching on his KFC. I listen to the sound of it. Realize I'm hungry.

Got no money, though. He asked if I wanted some, too, but I shook my head.

I don't want him around.

We walk around the district. Mine is close by, I can tell by the smell. His is probably miles away. It sounds fucking sappy. But it's the truth. We're just way too different. And yet, he's tripping around with me.

I want to collapse to my knees and choke to death. My neck feels swollen. Maybe I'm about to catch flu?

"How long haven't you been on a swing?"

-oOOo-

* * *

**BAM! That's the sound of end of the chapter :P**

**Hope you liked it, and you can look forward for more soon (hopefully). This fic is surprisingly fine to write. I like to write it.**

**Also, a huge thanks goes to Sinasta for the heart-warming concern :)**

**R&R! :)**


	5. As if kids again

_**Chapter 5**_

_**As if kids again**_

He looks tensed, but it might also be that he's cold; he wouldn't admit to it, but I have eyes, you know. His cheeks and nose is reddened, and his fingers are numbed when they leave the pockets of his over-size old jacket. I would switch my clothes for his; not that it'd be more fitting, my frame is still larger than his, but at least that jacket would fit me better than him. And he'd be warmer.

We stop by the old and unattractive playground. Time has washed it away as if it was made of dirt and there was a heavy rain. There are other playgrounds now, and this one, the one I used to play the most at as a kid, is abandoned now. I watch Zoro's eyes roam over the place. They seem to have gentled, and there's a certain spark in them – not much of it though. Overall, Zoro's eyes seem a bit too tired and uninterested in the outside world that they make you think he's too cold for you.

But right here and right now, him watching the place he might remember from when he was a little kid, his eyes are different. They're big, big and almost stunned.

I walk past him, small smile on my lips.

He decide I like my stubbornness. It's what got me here with him.

Zoro stands behind.

I sit on the old swing and grin stupidly as the whole construct howls under my weight. Zoro's not looking. For some reason, he's never looking. Well, almost. There have been this few episodes on the roof of our school when it seemed as if he was looking.

But when we're here together, he's avoiding any eye contact.

Damn that kid.

I take a swing and tilt my head up to the sky. It finally stopped raining, although knowing the weather here, it's going to be cloudy the next evening.

But right now, too soon for the sun to settle yet and the moon to come out, it looks perfect.

Skies are glazed in blue, yellow and orange.

I wish I could paint that.

I look back to Zoro. He hasn't even moved.

"Ain't ya gonna come and sit here?" I ask, smiling as much as I can. And right now, it's not that hard.

Zoro jumps up a bit, obviously not expecting my words. He moves his head towards me, but his eyes stay away from anything even near me.

He's pouting. I can tell.

I take another swing.

And another one.

Tilt my head.

Let go of everything I know.

It feels beautiful.

Then I stop.

Zoro is standing by the swing.

I'm smiling. "C'mon, do it!" I cheer for him.

He's not looking, but I know he's letting my words sink in. He slowly, very slowly, moves to sit down. Lets his hand slide down the chain that holds the object of our today's afternoon walk. I watch it. He's got cute hands. I like them.

Very slowly, as if scared to sit down, he takes his move to take his seat.

"There," I grin, "wasn't so hard, was it?"

He looks away even more when I talk.

I wonder what it is about him – or possibly about me – that makes him want to look away every time I try to get closer to him.

It's been weeks since we've been this close. I wonder how his sister is doing. But he's been avoiding me ever since that thing in the train station happened; I can tell.

I stop swinging and throw my leg on the other side of the wooden desk, so I'm straddling it and the chain gets in my view of Zoro. He hasn't moved yet.

That's okay.

I guess I'm just too scary for him.

I get it though. A guy who used to be the king of the high school, somehow now is just a mere nothing on the old playground, stalking a boy younger than himself.

Maybe what I do is pathetic?

I look at Zoro's face. His eyes. Those hands.

Even if it's pathetic, I want it.

Need it.

Need to want it.

Want to need it.

I reach out and grasp the chain of Zoro's swing. I drag it and along with it, the green-haired boy.

He looks at me. Gasps in shock.

I know he hates any kind of human contact.

I know he hates it when I try to touch him.

But this is just a swing. And I bet he hasn't been on one since he was like six. I'm not touching him. Maybe I'm popping into his personal bubble, but it's all I do. For now, I'll keep my hands to myself.

I drag the swing along with him just a bit backwards. Then I let go.

It makes him do a little motion onwards.

He's not looking.

I sigh quietly.

I think he hears me.

I look away.

And when I look back, he's swinging on his own; even if just a little, using his feet to press into the ground to make the old rusty chain move.

I lean against the chain that's behind my back. I close my eyes and enjoy the last bits of sunshine.

We're both silent. It feels like hours, but the sun is still there, so it can't be more than few minutes. I love this silence we share.

It's not the awkward silence. Not the weird and uncomfortable one. It's a silence in which we understand each other's reasons not to talk. I appreciate that about Zoro. When I'm silent around my friends, they hate it and tell me to do go the class teacher to let me go home and take a rest. They make fun of me, for having a hangover whatsoever. And sometimes, they just pretend I'm there, part of their group, but slowly, they leave me behind. All just because I want to listen and not talk too much.

But Zoro talks even less. Mostly it's me who does all the pitiful conversation. I mean, not pitiful in it's meaning, but pitiful with it's lack of words. And still, I like to talk to him. It's not meaningless like when Nami talks about make-up. It's more.

It's definitely more to me.

I'm just a bit afraid that soon, he's going to get fed up with my shit and he'll just stop responding to my calls; when I come to him after work and such. He's just going to walk away.

Like everybody did.

Every single one of them.

I crouch on the swing.

I don't want him to leave.

I notice Zoro's stopped swinging.

And he's watching me.

Watching me with those big dark green eyes, still so tired and pained as before, but now also curious. Or so it seems.

I force on a smile. "What?" I ask, making my voice as soft and gentle as I can. It feels like he's going to run away if I do something wrong, something inappropriate towards him, something he thinks is out of line.

He looks away.

Bad move.

I'd facepalm, or maybe even bang my head against a tree. We've had an actual eye contact for like three seconds; and what do I do? I fuck up.

Like usual.

I always fuck up. I fuck up everything I touch.

And then, we're silent again.

Some time passes before I dare to think of something to speak about, but as this day is coming to it's end, I'm getting sleepy.

I pray not to have a narcoleptic attack.

"My Mom is sick."

I'm shocked at the sound of Zoro's voice, quiet and low, but still hearable. I lift my head immediately and stare at him.

He's not looking back. He's hypnotizing his knees. His hands lay in his lap and he's playing with his fingers, just like when I came to pick him up from the DVD store. He has this weird, unexplainable expression on his face. I can't read it.

He takes a deep breath.

I can't believe he's talking to me on his own.

"Really, really sick."

I jerk away from my amazement to react properly. He's telling me about thing like this… and I'm just sitting there like a little dumb fish.

I try to move a bit closer, but not too close. I don't want to scare him.

"Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoro." I mumble, trying to keep the same voice level as he set.

He shrugs.

I watch his eyes. They're dull now.

"She's going to die in two of three months."

"Shit."

He looks my way, but not at me. He's watching my left knee. His eyes are glazed over with despair.

"Z-Zoro… I… I don't know what to say…" I murmur truthfully.

He shrugs again. "Silence is nice." He notes.

"Yeah," I agree, "but not at times like this. Your… your dad… won't pay the treatment?" it's a blind shot, but I had to. Sometimes I just say something stupid, like now, but mean to make things better via what I blurt out.

He looks away completely.

Watches the leaves fall to the ground.

His eyes are weaker and weaker, until they close.

"I don't have a dad."

I'm a total fucker. "I'm sorry."

And he just shrugs again. "I don't really care anymore."

Suddenly, I get why he was so freaked out back there with Kuina leaving the school trip earlier than she should, and on her own. She's the only one he has.

I wish I could grab his hand. Hold it in mine. Warm it up from the frosty wind.

I wish I could hold him close. I don't want him to feel the way he does.

Although I guess that two broken pieces can't fix each other.

Or can they?

"I killed my little brother."

His eyes widen. He turns his head to me.

"My mom, almost, too."

His eyes scan my face.

He shudders from the cold.

"It was a car accident. Glass everywhere. Me, mainly. But he had fractured skull and a huge blood loss. So he didn't make it, not even to the point when the ambulance came. My mom and I survived. And my older brother was waiting for us to pick him up from ice-hockey practice."

He's watching me now.

Intensely.

I want to look back, but somehow I can't.

He's silent.

I doubt he'll say a word.

He's not the type.

And I don't need his words. I know he needs mine more than I need his. It's okay.

Two broken pieces can't fix each other.

And silence is fine, too.

-oOOo-

My arms itch. Dad is staring at me.

"Speak up, Ace."

I shrug. Scratch my skin to the point it makes my loins warm up. I'm feeling weird again.

"Ace."

"What? Something to matter?" I mumble, slight trace of nervousness in my voice.

Dad shakes his head. "You tell me." He says.

I look away, me knees up to my chest as I sit on my bed, facing my dad. His mustache looks just as silly as usual, but is eyes are dead serious.

I can't face him.

I just can't.

I rub my arms.

"I heard you do… weird noises last night."

I go red. Redder than any other time in my entire life. "Well, what about it. I'm nineteen. Almost."

"No…" dad states slowly, massaging his temple. "That's not it, Ace. I don't mind. It's about what… causes it."

I stare at him and stare at him. My eyes are getting sore.

I knew this would eventually come. I knew it, but refused to pay attention to it. Dad still loves me. That's why it's happening. I killed his son, but he still loves me, and now it's doing weird shit to my everyday routine. How can he love me? He should hate me like Sabo does.

And here he sits, looking at me with that pained yet businesslike expression.

_Fuck._

_Fuck fuck fuck_.

"That's just… some videos I downloaded."

"Don't lie Ace."

I shake my head furiously. "I'm not lying."

"Roll up your sleeves."

_Shit_.

Well, at least now I have my lesson. Should have started cutting on my thighs, or somewhere where he couldn't see so easily.

"You have no proof of this." I state dryly, not moving an inch.

Dad sighs heavily. "There was blood in your basin."

I freeze. _Fuck_.

How can I be so stupid and not clean up after my what I do?

"The sleeves, Ace. Roll them up. Now." He insists, urging me into things I don't want like usual.

I shake my head.

"Ace."

"No."

"Roll up your sleeves or I'll do it myself."

"Just leave it alone!" I suddenly find myself barking, losing patience all too quickly. I don't know what to do. I just fucking have no idea. No idea.

"How could I? You're my son, for God's sake!"

We fall silent.

I am.

I am his son, and he is my father. But I could care less. He doesn't have enough of my trust, nor enough of my love, to ask me to show him what I've been doing for past year.

Silence.

And more of it, before I decide to speak again.

"I won't stop, dad." I announce.

"You _need_ to. I won't just sit down and watch my kid slowly torture himself to death."

"… Maybe that's what I'm aiming for."

BAM.

Blackness.

Moment on nausea.

What is happening?

"D-dad…"

I blink.

Blink some more.

He slapped me.

Are those tears in his eyes?

"Ace, whatever it is you're doing this for, whatever you're blaming yourself for, whatever you want to punish yourself for, _stop_. This _shit_ helps nothing."

My eyes are wide and startled. He slapped me.

He fucking slapped me.

My dad slapped me.

I hold my hand over the place where his palm landed upon. It doesn't particularly ache, nor burn. It's more like he did it to wake me up. Or like I drank his beer without asking for a permission. Or slept over at friend's without mentioning it to him. It feels so…

Good.

It makes me feel alive.

I take a breath. Exhale slowly. Calm myself down. So does he.

"Did you tell mom?" is the first thing on my mind.

He shrugs. "No, but she's noticing you acting different."

"Uh-uh."

He looks over at me, placing his big heavy hand on my shoulder. "Ace. I just… I just really wish you'd ask for help instead."

I shake his hand off. "Don't be ridiculous, dad. I'm not the kind to ask for help."

"Well, you're my son. Guess I wouldn't want any help either. Which doesn't mean I don't want you to leave that shit."

I never heard him talk like this. Guess he's really not pleased with what he found out about.

"I can't stop, dad. I just can't."

"You _have_ to! For love's sake, just because of your mother, brother and me, stop this!"

"I can't. I just fucking can't."

"Roll up your sleeves, Ace. I can help you. I'm a man of an influence for a reason. I can get you a therapist, a good one. I can even make your teachers let you pass the exams so you could take your time to recover from this."

"No." Just fucking no.

He won't. I won't. I won't let him.

"Fuck, Ace, I almost wish you were taking drugs."

_Shit._

How dare he? How the fuck dare he? Suddenly, I go all too awake, all too energetic. Suddenly, there's only one thing on my mind. I want someone to beat the shit outta me for being the way I am.

I jump off of my bed. Stand up. Dead expression on my face. I can't bear this anymore.

I hate everything.

I pull the shirt over my head. I hear dad suck up air. His eyes go wide, wider than I've ever seen. And I swear I can see all the pain of the world in them. The tears are pretty obvious now.

Why are they there?

Why am I here?

Why?

"You can't fix _me_ up. Not me. I'm a terrible, despiteful, pathetic creature, and you can't do a shit about it. There's nothing at all you could do about this. And you know what? That's okay, because I don't wanna get fine. I've got used to this."

And we stand there.

We stand and stand and stand.

And then, I see him move.

He's looking me into eyes.

And suddenly, his arms move and he's hugging me to his big chest.

He's hugging me like a son he once has had. Like nothing changed. Like I was still the same. Like I wasn't a beast.

I'm sick. I want to throw up. Die. Be gone and forgotten.

How can I be like this? I should be ashamed of my very existence. I just don't know why anyone should love me like this.

I realize my eyes are wet.

Too wet to be controlled by will anymore.

I cry.

I cry and cry and cry.

And he's just hugging me.

-oOOo-

"Kuina –"

"Before you start complaining, Oni-chan, you need to know that I really really wanted to see Ace-san. For our goodness."

I don't get a word she says. I want to smash my head against the wall.

She can't be here. It'll drag Freckle-face to me.

"Also, Social worker-san is supposed to visit in a day, and you said we need to get me a new skirt so she knows I'm doing well," she reminds me, and I have the urge to smash my head a million times more than three seconds ago. I totally forgot. Well, no, I didn't; I simply lost the track of time. It's hard to concentrate on days passing when your head is occupied with… stuff.

I sigh.

I take a breath.

"Yeah. Let's go get you some nice skirt."

Not that I have money to buy her even a fucking lollipop. It's okay to say that, though ; I'll just make something up along the way, like we have to run home because of whatever shit that might have happened, or maybe we'll meet a black cat that's going to bring us luck and I'll find some money laying on the ground. Yeah. Or we'll meet a social worker and my life will be over.

Kuina makes a curious face. "Aren't we going to wait for Ace-san?" she asks.

"No, now let's go." I try pulling on her hand, but she's like stuck to the pavement.

"Why not?" her voice is getting the annoying childish tone I dislike so much. It makes my head spin.

I shrug. "He's got stuff to do. Come on."

"Oh, pleaaase, Oni-chan! I really really miss Ace-san!"

"Stop being selfish." I know I'm a bad person for acting like this towards my very own sister. "He has his own friends and things to do."

Suddenly, Kuina's face loses it's brightness. My eyes widen a bit as I stare at her.

When she looks back up, her eyes are squeezed shut and she's forcing a grin on. "I see!" she shrieks. "Well, in that case, let's go now!"

Now it's her turn to pull my hand and drag me away from the school. She's not looking at me, nor the street. She's hypnotizing the pavement. Maybe she's not even looking at all. Maybe she's trying to fight away the tears that I probably caused to come to an existence.

I watch her dark hair and the way the cold wind ruffles it.

I wish I could let her be a normal kid.

I really, really wish so.

I truly do hate myself.

-oOOo-

I'm staring. I'm staring and staring and staring.

I just can't make myself knock it off; I keep staring and staring and staring until my eyes start to hurt. I believe I even forgot to blink. Also, I obviously forgot that there's a certain thing needed in the public, called manners.

But I can't help myself.

"He's got stuff to do. Come on."

I stare so helplessly. Marco must be thinking I went completely nuts. But I just can't tear my eyes away from the display before me.

"Oh, pleaaase, Oni-chan! I really really miss Ace-san!"

Marco's not listening to the outside world; he's got his headphones on, and I bet he's far too busy with checking out some busty teacher's butt; although occasionally, he looks over to me, and I have to try my hardest to seem like a normal person. It's indeed hard when there's something like this going on just few steps away from you.

I remember the kid; of course I do, after all, she's what actually got me closer to Zoro. Although I haven't seen her in quite a long time, I think of her from time to time. Mainly when I pass a family photo with Luffy on it; they have the same smile. I noticed Kuina is trying to act all grown-up and responsible, but when she thinks no one is looking, or when she forgets, she has the exact same grin he used to have.

The grin I wiped off for good.

I shake my head, trying to catch more of what they say.

But I can't; not that well. Zoro has his back to me. I'm staring at his ass.

"… Selfish."

I snap. His voice got a bit louder; maybe he's upset.

I wish I could just walk up to them and give Zoro's little sister a hug. And ruffle her hair. And joke around.

Like I used to, with my brother. Before I killed him.

I shake my head again. My arms burn and ache. Burn. Burn burn burn.

My insides are starting to coil.

I'm watching them. I'm really trying no to think what my head is making me think most of the time. I wish I could just make it stop. But they're right there. Zoro is right there. I want to talk. I want to go to the playground again. Swing.

I want to hold his hand.

Really.

Maybe this is too soon to tell, but I'm feeling better when he's around.

I'm watching it all the way to the corner, where he and his sister turn left and disappear from my sight.

Shit.

I need my razor _now_.

Dad took most of them; but didn't realize what my pendant razor is actually for.

Even though they were nothing but talking about me, something random like why not wait for me, it got me absolutely out of my system. Like there was an explosion somewhere within me, an explosion that caused some real trouble.

He thinks I wouldn't want to join them on their home wherever they might want to go; or so it seems. He led his sister away, after all. Didn't even consider that maybe I'd like to. He didn't think it'd be an option.

I wonder how it is that someone like Zoro thinks he's not good enough to share silence with someone like me.

Well, that's just how it goes, I guess.

And no, I don't have stuff to do. I never have anything to do. I wish he'd take my thoughts off of my mind.

Not that he's not doing it already.

I try not to think of the way his hips moved while he walked. I shudder. Take a breath.

And I realize I can't think this way. I can't let him take over my day dreams. I just can't, because I know that the damage it might cause… might turn apocalyptical.

What was I thinking, anyway? I mean, I can't just stare at some random boy's ass while thinking of my suicidal attempts and get a hard-on right away. It's something you can't do. Something that is banned. Something that you should be punished for.

I deserve punishment.

_Yeah_.

Razor.

"So," I hear the voice as if it was miles away from me, although Marco is just a foot or two distant. "Got any plans for tonight? I was thinking we might go to Tatch's bar and watch the hockey." He has his usual light smile on; an easy-going guy attitude as usual. I appreciate him for that. He's one of the few who haven't left.

I try to stop thinking those awful things. Uselessly. "Neh, not really in the right mood." I wipe him off.

And although I'm acting like a pussy, although he should snort and turn on his heel and walk off, although he should be disgusted by my ever-present gloominess… he just nods. He nods, that smile still staying there in it's usual place, not even slightly freezing.

It pisses me off.

He's supposed to be hating being in my presence. He should feel sick whenever having me around. He should make me leave; or leave himself. I'm toxic. Bad. Not the one he should be asking to come with him to watch hockey. I'm not the one he should want for a friend.

It pisses me off so fucking much.

I make the rules of how people act towards me.

Suddenly, I'm feeling all too hot in the face.

Marco's smiling. Headphones on. "That's alright," he says in that relaxed way of his. My belly tickles. I think of Zoro. "I'll tell Tatch you have something already."

And he's even willing to cover up for me.

Oh god.

Razor.

_Razor razor razor_.

I want to go home. I want the house to be empty. I want everyone to stay away from me today. Just one afternoon, just a half of the day is enough. Just few hours will do it for me. Am I asking that much?

"Thanks." I mumble, shifting from our sitting spot. "Gotta head back home. See you tomorrow."

Razor.

Razor.

I think too much, and suddenly, 'razor' sounds more like 'Zoro'.

-oOOo-

**Tatadaaa~ hope you enjoyed! It was shorter, yes, however, now you have something to look forward to in the next chapters! I'll try to make it slightly longer, and if I don't… deal with it :D Btw, woohoo, finally some AceZo interaction! :D**

**R&R – and thanks for all the wonderful support! :)**


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